Break the Silence
by It's The Fear
Summary: Whenever they needed her, she was there. When Jon felt as though the world was falling down around him, she was there to pick up the pieces. When Robb felt his responsibilities and duties were going to crush him, she was there to urge him forward. None of them could have been prepared for the feelings that would arise or the heartache that would be left in the aftermath.
1. Chapter 1

** First off, thank you for clicking on my story! I only recently watched an episode of Game of Thrones, and of course I fell in love with it. I've seen season one and season two very recently (as recently, I mean I had a season two marathon on Sunday and spent the entire day watching it). I'm going to try my best to keep things the way they would be in the show, but by all means, let me know if I happened to mess something up. It's the only way I'll be able to fix it, so go for it!**

** I didn't mean for this chapter to get so long, but it seemed that once I started writing, I couldn't stop. The rating for now is T, but if you've read my writing before, you know that it's going to eventually become M, as I'm very fond of writing smut.**

** I'd love to hear from you guys in a review or PM, so please feel more than free to drop me a few. Anyways, I'll let you guys get to the story now. Enjoy, and please remember to drop a review!**

* * *

Everyone seemed to serve a purpose. Everyone, it seemed, but her. She could see herself, wandering around the streets surrounding the castle aimlessly. Searching for something but never finding it. Sometimes she feared she would live the rest of her days in such a way. The thought alone shattered her heart into a million pieces.

She had no more blood relatives. No, she had lost her final one some years back as he protected the man he had sworn his life to, Lord Stark. She had never cursed her father for taking the oath that would cost him his life. He had a purpose, even if it were to lay down his life so the good Lord could live. She had never met a stronger, more determined man than her father, may the Gods bless his soul. Until he had taken his final breath in battle, her sole purpose was to prove to her father that his only offspring being born a girl was a blessing and not the curse that she had always felt she was.

Her father was a kind man, as kind to her as any father could be to his only child. But beneath the love that lurked in his dark eyes, she had always felt that her existence had let him down. His wife should've bore him a son, not a daughter that constantly reminded him of the love that he had lost during childbirth.

She had no blood relatives, it was true. But still, in the loss of the man who had given her life, she had found a new family, the Starks.

She could tell with just a glance into Ned's eyes that he had never forgiven himself for letting his good friend and guardian die. When her father died, so did a part of Lord Stark. He had let his old friend down, unable to protect him from the darkness that consumed him as he took his final breath. When her father died, he hadn't only left hundreds of people who adored him grieving in the aftermath, but he had left behind a young girl, motherless and now fatherless, in a world that would've eaten her alive without the guidance and protection she needed to survive.

It was then that Lord Stark had stepped in, claiming the small, heartbroken girl as one of his own. And he had never looked back. He and Lady Stark may not have brought the child into the world, but he loved and protected her as he did every one of his children. As it had been her father's sworn duty to protect the Lord and his family, Ned had declared it his duty to do the same and raise the orphan as though she were one of his own.

It was something Gwynne would never forget. And though Lord Stark constantly told her otherwise, she would owe both him and his wife until her dying day.

"Gwynne! There you are!"

A voice behind her snapped her away from the thoughts that had consumed her and sent her into a powerful trance. She turned away from the busy streets before her, glancing over her shoulder to watch as Robb came jogging towards her.

A warm smile spread across her lips as he approached, his auburn curls bouncing until he came to a stop in front of her. She studied his features, noticing the sweat that gathered over the skin of his forehead. He leaned over, slapping his hands on his knees as he panted for air.

She couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him. "Where did you come running from, Lord Stark?"

He looked up at her, squinting as the powerful light from the sun warmed his face. "Lord Stark? Did you really just call me Lord Stark again, Gwynne? Really, how many years has it been now since you've lived with us, since you've become like a sister to me? And you _still_ feel the need to call me that?"

Gwynne turned her back to the bustle of the streets, leaning back against the wooden rail she had been resting against. "Are you not a Lord? One day, will you not take over his wonderful kingdom and have people bow at your feet?"

"One day, maybe, but not today, my dear Gwynne." Robb smirked, standing up straight and resting a hand on the handle of his sword.

Alright, she knew how weird it was to always be so proper towards the young men and women she had grown up with, but she couldn't help it. Her father had always told her to respect people, no matter if their status were higher or lower than hers. It was one of the few memories she still carried with her of her father. She had grown into a young woman with Robb by her side. She had spilled her secrets to him about the boy who worked in the stables and how cute she had thought he was, had spent countless nights crying in his arms whenever she had a nightmare about her father's final moments. But still, one day, he was to take control of this beautiful land. One day, he would take the place of Lord Stark and she had to show respect to him, no matter how close they had become.

"I've been looking all over for you."

Gwynne raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And why is that?"

"Come, I want to show you something." Robb said, reaching out and grabbing a hold of her wrist.

Gwynne couldn't help the laugh that slipped through her lips as she ran behind him, following him carefully as he dodged the people passing in the streets. "Where are you taking me, Lord Stark?"

Robb shot a look over his shoulder, his smile as bright as ever. "You'll see!"

Gwynne had lived here all her life, had wandered across all the land, but she had still to get used to how extravagantly large the land was. Every time she spent time with Robb and his half brother, they always seemed to find a way to show her something new, somewhere she had never been before. Everyday seemed to be an adventure with those two around.

They came to a slow stop, Robb still holding onto her wrist as she came up behind him. She saw Jon standing there, his back turned to them as he stared off into the distance. When he heard the rustling of leaves behind him, Jon glanced over his shoulder, his eyes falling instantly on Gwynne. He smiled at her and cocked his head towards where he had been staring.

Gwynne's hand fell to her side when Robb finally let go of her warm skin. He took a stand beside Jon while Gwynne came to a stop on the other side of him.

"She's beautiful." Gwynne practically gasped.

Jon's smile widened, threatening to consume the rest of his young features as he nodded his head in agreement. "She is. We thought of you the moment we saw her grazing in the field."

The trio stood in silence as they watched the horse stomp its hoof, its head bouncing up and down as she continued to munch on the grass beneath her. She was the most gorgeous creature Gwynne had ever laid eyes on. A snow white mane, blowing across her long, thick neck as a warm breeze blew past the field she stood in. Her body was just as pure, untouched by any colour that didn't resemble the snow that would soon cover the land around them.

"So, do you still believe that a virgin can tame a wild horse?" Robb grinned evilly, leaning forward so he could watch Gwynne's features drop.

"I don't know, why don't you go test it out, Robb?"

Jon burst out laughing, his eyes falling to his half brother as Robb's smile quickly faded.

"Oh, shut up, Jon. Like you're one to talk." Robb grunted, turning back to the horse that trotted around in front of them.

"I wonder…" Gwynne began, her voice almost too low for the brothers to hear. She took a step forward, slowly, steadily, as she left the brothers behind.

"Gwynne, I was only kidding. Look at the size of that thing, she'll eat you alive."

Gwynne looked back at the young men, her features calm as she continued towards a beast that could very well kill her if it felt threatened. "Nothing will hurt me when you two are around."

The brothers stood in silence, each with a hand on the handle of their sword, as they watched her make her way towards the wild beast. Her dress flowed in the wind behind her, a trail of pale blue fabric rising into the warm air.

Robb lifted his arms, crossing them over his broad chest, his eyes never once leaving the girl in front of him. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head slightly. "She's beautiful."

Jon watched his brother from the corner of his eye, nodding in agreement. "Aye. That she is."

No further words had to be spoken on the subject. They both knew that neither one of them were talking about the horse any longer.

"You let her walk up to a wild horse? Have you gone completely crazy?" Lady Stark fumed at the story as the family ate dinner together. "I would never expect that sort of brazen behaviour from you, Robb!"

Gwynne saw Jon's body tense from the corner of her eye and couldn't help the knot that grew in her stomach. She didn't expect that kind of behaviour from Robb, but of course it was nothing new to come from Jon. Gwynne heard Robb explain himself further, how they had been right there the entire time, how they wouldn't have let anything bad happen to Gwynne, but eventually she found his voice fading as she focused on Jon at the end of the table, tucked away from the rest of them as he always was.

Turning her head slightly, she watched him as he pushed around the food in his plate; his head hung low, his hair hanging over his features to hide the hurt of Lady Stark's words.

She had never fully understood the way Lady Stark despised Jon. When she was a child, growing up beside the young boy, she was baffled at how Lady Stark would hold her and kiss her all over while she glared at the boy sitting in the corner by himself. It had taken her many years to fully understand the meaning behind Lady Stark's hatred.

Her husband had strayed. He broke his vows to her and as a result, Jon was born. Somehow, overtime, Lady Stark had found it in herself to forgive her husband's one indiscretion. Unfortunately, even after these years she had failed to do the same with Jon. She still despised him, the constant reminder of her husband's unfaithfulness.

But it was out of Cat's disgust and hatred for Jon's existence that a friendship formed between them like no other. When Gwynne had first begun living with the Starks, she was five and she was absolutely terrified. Everyone seemed to tower over her, so powerful and intimidating and there she was, shy, quiet, and distant from them all. She had barely said a word to anyone the first few years she lived within the walls of their castle.

She didn't remember much from that time, just a few sentences from her father here and there, and Jon. When Lady Stark broke Jon's heart for the first of many times, she had also broken Gwynne's. She would never forget hearing the sniffles coming from the room furthest away from the Stark family, the room that had become Jon's safe haven from Lady Stark's hatred.

She crept into the dark room one night, awoken somehow by his sniffles. She found him sitting in the corner of the room, his knees pulled into his chest and his head buried in his arms as he wept. She crawled by his side, cuddled against his body, and fell asleep on his shoulder, trying to give him as much comfort as a small child could.

It was from that moment on that Jon had reserved a spot in her heart that no one could touch.

Jon lifted up his head, just barely, his eyes rising to meet Gwynne's, as if he knew her eyes had been on him the entire time. As though he could read her mind and remember the times in his life that he had tried so desperately to block out over the years. He half smiled, the best that he could muster up at the moment. It was a silent action that assured her that he was fine despite what was being said about him at the dining table.

Gwynne returned a small smile, her heart aching for the young man everyone referred to as a bastard.

"Gwynne, did it hurt you at all?"

Gwynne's head snapped back to the only mother she had ever known and quickly shook her head. "No, Lady Stark. I just wanted to see if I could tame her."

"And?" Ned asked in a gruff voice.

"And…" Gwynne took a moment to fumble with the right words when Robb quickly finished the sentence for her.

"And she's got a long way to go." He pointed out before bursting into laughter.

Smiles spread across everyone's face, laughter soon filling the room. Laughter and smiles from everyone but Jon as he continued to stare at the young girl that seemed to be more of a part of his family than himself.

"You shouldn't let her bother you so much." The sudden words startled Jon, who had stepped outside of the castle walls to enjoy the crisp air of the night alone. He kept his back turned to Gwynne, listening to her step closer to him.

"How did you know I was here?" Jon finally spoke, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.

Gwynne wrapped her arms around herself as an attempt to of keep her shivering body warm for just a little bit longer. She wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight if she hadn't at least checked up on him, just to make sure he was okay.

She smiled sweetly, and though he couldn't see it, he could hear it in her voice. "I suppose I just know you far too well, Jon."

Jon hung his head, taking in a deep breath as his fingernails dug into the stone railing in front of him. She could tell at dinner that he had been upset. It shouldn't have surprised him to think that she would come out here looking for him. How many times had she found him out here when they were kids, crying and distraught, not understanding why Lady Stark hated him so fiercely?

"I suppose you do." He whispered as she finally came up beside him.

With one hand resting on the stones beside her, Gwynne shifted her body so she was facing Jon. She brought her other hand up, resting it on his arm in an attempt to provide him some sort of comfort. She tilted her head up so she could look at his worn features, his dark eyes heavy with sadness.

"You have to understand why she's so upset all the time. She's just taking it out on the wrong person. I love Lord Stark, he's raised me as though he's the one who brought me into the world, but he made a mistake."

Having grown uncomfortable with the subject, Jon let out a sharp breath and pulled away from Gwynne's touch, turning his back to her. He didn't need this. He came here to be alone, to calm his racing thoughts, not to hear words he's heard all his life.

"That doesn't make you any less of a person than the rest of us, Jon. You're strong, kind, and brave, and you're going to be someone someday. I know this must be hard for you, but one day you'll look back on these days and realize that it only made you stronger."

Jon didn't say anything in response. He couldn't. He had nothing to say. He wished with everything inside of him that she was right. That one day he would look back and thank Lady Stark for treating him the way she did, for making him stronger every day she glared at him with nothing but hatred lurking in her eyes. In ten years, it might be easier to accept, but right now, having to deal with it every day of his life, it was exhausting.

Gwynne stepped forward again, wrapping her arms around Jon's waist as she pressed her body against his. She felt him flinch, his muscles tense under her soft touch, as she rested her cheek against his strong back. Her lips curved into a smile, and he swore he could've felt it through the shirt that separated them.

"I promise you, Jon, you're going to be fine. Just don't give up." She spoke in a hushed voice, barely a whisper, but the cool breeze that passed by them drifted the words to his ears.

"I don't even want to know what's going on out here."

Gwynne took a step away from Jon the moment she heard Robb's voice break the silence that surrounded them. Both her and Jon turned to see Robb standing a few feet away from them, his arms crossed over his chest as he cocked an eyebrow in their direction.

"Jon, you've got it all wrong. If you want to touch a girl, you should probably turn around to face her."

"What do you want, Robb?" Jon snapped. This was definitely not what he had come out here for.

"I want to tell both of you how inappropriate being out here this late and by yourselves is. Gwynne, if you're going to sneak out of your room in the middle of the night, you might want to make less noise next time."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure Jon was alright."

Robb eyed them curiously as he began to wonder what exactly he had interrupted. Maybe he should have hung back longer and waited to see if his brother would finally make a move on the girl he knew they both wanted. Instead, he laughed off the situation in front of him and smiled at the two of them. "If you want to make sure he's alright, perhaps next time you should pay him a visit in his bed. That'll get a man's attention, for sure."

Gwynne ignored Robb's comment and reached out to grab a steady hold of Jon's arm, tugging him toward his half brother. "Come on, Jon, it's late. We'd better get back to our rooms before someone realizes we're all missing and all hell breaks loose."

Jon remained silent the entire way back to the castle as he walked alongside the brother whose shadow he had fallen into and the only ray of hope in his meaningless life.

* * *

**And that's the first chapter, everyone! What did everyone think so far? Definitely let me know. Also, feel free to let me know of any and all mistakes I may have made throughout this chapter in regards to Game of Thrones. That way I can make sure I don't do them again. I know there aren't a lot of reviews that go around nowadays, but try and leave one. I'd absolutely love to know what people have to say about this!**

**Thanks for reading everyone!**


	2. Nowhere with You

**Wow, I can't believe how much feedback I've gotten from this story so far! A special thanks to everyone who added this story to their list, reviewed, and read the first chapter! I have so, so many ideas for this story, and I've been writing chapters like crazy! The only reason why it's taking me so long to update this story is because it's rather hard to do without internet at home. But alas, stealing wifi seems to have become one of my favourite pastimes whenever I feel like lugging my laptop around! So here we are!**

**Since I won't be updating as often as I'd like to, I've decided to make this chapter a little longer than I normally would. It isn't fair to keep people hanging for too long. I hate it myself. I keep finding amazing Game of Thrones stories, but they never seem to get updated and it breaks my heart every time. So I'm going to make the chapters longer if I'm unable to update on a regular basis. Hopefully you guys won't mind reading a (much) longer chapter. If you do, by all means, let me know, and I'll do my best to accommodate everyone.**

**Thanks again to everyone who enjoyed the first chapter, and I hope to write many more that you enjoy just as much! Enjoy, everyone!**

* * *

_Gwynne could never stay inside the castle walls for very long. Not since her first days of living inside the strong castle walls, and certainly not now. During the day, she tried to go out and explore the land as far as her legs would take her. And during her restless nights, she found herself too consumed, too overwhelmed by the thoughts in her head to get a half decent sleep. More than often, she found herself wandering around the streets, even though it was well past the time a woman should do so alone._

_ It was strange, but she never worried for her safety when she was alone in Winterfell. The people of Winterfell were respectful, decent people and had loved and respected her father long before he had fallen to protect their Lord. And if that wasn't enough to prevent any harm from coming to her, the fact that the Starks had considered her one of their own was more than enough. No man would ever be stupid enough to lay so much as a finger on the girl without accepting the brutal consequences that would fall upon him once Lord Stark found out._

_ Yet another reason why Gwynne would be forever thankful to the Starks and all they'd done for her. Her mind wandered just as aimlessly as she was when she turned the corner and headed into an alley, heading back to the castle. Fear about what might lie ahead was the last thing on her mind as she listened to the restless thoughts inside her head._

_ She couldn't help but wonder what her father was doing at that exact moment. Was he watching over her, protecting her from harm and guiding her in the right path? Was he happy that Lord Stark had taken her into his family and provided a life for her that she never would've had otherwise? Was he resting in the heavens with her mother, his beloved wife, as they smiled and watched her mature into the person that she now was?_

_ Whenever she thought about it, she prayed to the Gods that that was the case. But the poisonous voice in the back of her head always seemed to reveal itself, assuring her that it couldn't be further from the truth._

_ What if he was looking down at her, disappointed that she wasn't outside of the comforting, secure walls of Winterfell searching for his murderer? Was he upset that she had never avenged his death and that, realistically, she probably never would? Was that what he expected of her as he took his final breath, slowly suffocating from the blood that gathered deep in his throat?_

_ A violent shiver ran through Gwynne's body as she pictured her father lying on the cold ground, his eyes slowly closing for the final time. It was the very image that haunted her dreams since Ned had sat her down and broke the news to her. It was the only image that had ever made her heart drastically sink within her chest. Tears burned her eyes each time she pictured her father lying broken and battered on the floor, taking his final breaths, by himself._

_ Lord Stark had never fully told her about her father's final moments, despite the fact that it was something she had spent countless hours begging for over the years. He always told her, 'when you're old enough and strong enough, I'll tell you everything.' But she was a woman now, had already bled and had many suitors that requested her hand in marriage. She was definitely old enough to hear of her father's final moments. It was the second part of Ned's promise that she had yet to fulfill. She wasn't strong enough. She wasn't strong enough to hear how her father had died, how he had given his life for his Lord. Maybe one day, one day soon, she could prove to Lord Stark that she was stronger than he thought._

_ She had been so consumed by her haunting thoughts that she hadn't heard the movement around her. It was the abrupt voices that surrounded her that had snapped her back to present time and reality._

_ "Well, look at what we have here."_

_ A startled gasp slipped through Gwynne's lips as she stopped dead in her tracks, her head shooting up to find a man standing before her, blocking her way. Her hands shook as she gathered up the fabric from her skirt, absentmindedly taking a step away from him._

_ "I haven't ever seen such a beauty in this alley before. Well, at least not until I pay one to be, anyway."_

_ The voice behind her made her glance over her shoulder as her heart pounded furiously in her chest. The smirk spread across the second man's lips had her body paralyzed with fear, her mind racing with horrid thoughts of what was about to befall her._

_ "What are you doing out here at this time?" The first man asked, taking a step closer to her._

_ Instinctively, Gwynne took another step away from him, unintentionally putting herself closer to the second man who had appeared behind her. "Don't take another step further," she warned him._

_ The first man fell into a fit of laughter. "And just what are _you_ going to do about it?"_

_ "Lord Stark will have your head if you do." She tried to keep her voice calm and steady. She intended it to sound threatening. But when the words came from her lips, they only quivered and shook. Not threatening at all. Not wonder he was laughing at her._

_ This time both men erupted into laughter. It was so loud and so obnoxious that it echoed throughout the otherwise empty alley. Surely their laugh would wake someone who would come to her rescue, she assured herself._

_ "Has anyone ever told you what beautiful lips you have? Gods, the things I can do with those lips. Come here." The second man said, reaching out and pulling him towards her._

_ It was then that something took over her. When she closed her eyes to blink, even though it was just for a second, she saw her father's soul coming into her, taking over her body and giving her the strength she needed to escape from this nightmare unscathed._

_ She grabbed a tight hold of one of his fingers and snapped it back, the sound of the bone breaking echoing through the alley as his laughter did only moments ago. He instantly let go of her, clutching his injured hand with the other as he hunched over in pain._

_ Gwynne took this as her opportunity to escape as she quickly moved around him, moving as fast as her dress would allow her as she left the two men behind her. She had only ran for a few seconds before someone had a strong grip on her hair, yanking her head back and holding her in place. _

_ Her hands reached back, desperately trying to pry herself free from his grip, but she couldn't do it. A headache overcame her instantly from the force and it wasn't too long after that the second man walked up to stand in front of her._

_ "You bitch! You broke my finger!" He hollered at her._

_ She sneered, staring directly into his dirty eyes. She had her father's fight in her, that much was plain to see. Even if they raped her and killed her right now, there was nothing in the world that would stop her from putting up a fight. If she were to take her final breath right here in this dirty alleyway, she was going to do it the way her father would. She would cause them as much pain as she could before succumbing to the darkness that would consume her body and bring her to be reunited with the parents she had never known._

_ "I'll break even more if you don't go of me!" _

_ "Gods, I know who this is. This is Lord Stark's girl! The adopted one." The second man said when he finally recognized her in the dim lighting._

_ The other man yanked her head back further so he could get a better look at her face. He stared at the other man in astonishment the moment he laid his eyes upon her. "You're right! I hear she's never been touched. A maiden." His eyes lit up as the words left his lips._

_ Gwynne felt the bile coming up in the back of her throat. This was it. This was how she was going to lose her maidenhead and there was nothing she could do about it. Not here and certainly not against two full grown men. What could a girl of fourteen possibly do against two men who were at least twice her size?_

_ She closed her eyes and felt her father's fight rise in her again. She felt the powerful surge of strength flow through her veins and she slammed her head back, the force breaking the other man's nose as he stumbled backwards, freeing her from his grip. It was then that she realized that the only way she was going to get out of this alive and untouched was if she did it herself. There was no knight in shining armour coming to defend her honour. If she wanted to escape this bad enough, she would have to do it herself. And right now there was nothing she wanted more than to be back in the safety of the castle._

_ The moment she was free from his grip, she grabbed a hold of the fabric of her dress and began to run away from them again. Her legs wouldn't fail her, not now, not when she needed them the most. She wouldn't let them. If she let herself give up, she wouldn't live to see another day. And right now, that was all she wanted._

_ Gwynne had only gotten a few steps further away from them before she found herself pulled to a stop once more. She pushed against the body pressed up against her, tried to kick him and claw at him, but it was no use. She was trapped._

_ "Let me go!" She cried desperately, almost begging for her release._

_ The man stepped in front of her and glared at her, blood pouring down his face as he sneered. "You'll pay for this. We'll make sure of it."_

_ Before Gwynne could say anything, she felt a fist collide with her stomach. Still in the hands of the other man, she crouched over, her lungs struggling for air as she struggled just as hard to breath. She didn't have the time to compose herself before she felt the back of his hand make contact with her cheek. The sheer force of the blow sent her to the floor as she crawled away from them, tears finally streaming down her face._

_ She looked up at the two men, blinking the tears away as they edged closer towards her. She closed her eyes for a moment and all she could think of was her father and failing him. What would he think of her if he could see her right now, bloodied and crying as she lay on the floor of a dirty alley?_

_ One of the men fell to his knees by her head, grabbing a rough hold of her wrists as he pinned them against the floor on either side of her head. She struggled, trying to free herself from his grip, but his fingers dug so deep into her skin she could almost feel the blood seep out from within._

_ She cried out desperately as the other man kneeled in front of her, prying her legs open and holding them in place with his own. He had a smile so sickening it made her stomach turn as he ripped the thin fabric of her dress, lifting it up over her hips. She watched in horror as he undid his belt and pushed his pants down._

_ She shut her eyes tightly, unable to watch him as he raped her. She cried silently as she felt his body hover over hers, his legs pushing hers open further. She was waiting to feel herself tear open for him as she tried to mentally prepare herself for the pain that would follow. But she felt nothing._

_ When she heard a scream followed by a thud, her eyes shot open. It was then that the other man had freed her from his grip. Gwynne's eyes flashed to the man beside her, watching as another stood over him, the tip of his blade pressed against the swell of his Adam's apple. She blinked furiously, clearing her vision to try and make out the shadow of the man who had saved her._

_ She saw his curls, the auburn colour somehow becoming clearer the longer she stared at him. But it was only when he glanced over at her, anger consuming his young features, that she recognized him. Robb._

_ His eyes flashed back to the man who begged for his life on the ground in front of him, digging his blade deeper against the man's throat. "Not so tough now, are you?" Robb snarled. _

_ The second man ran the moment he saw Robb Stark standing tall and furious over his friend. As far as he was concerned, his friend had acted alone. With the Gods permitting, if he ran fast enough away from the alley, Robb Stark wouldn't be able to identify him. And Lord Stark wouldn't be able to kill him._

_ He glanced over his shoulder briefly to ensure himself that he wasn't being followed. A sigh of relief slipped through his lips when he saw that Robb was too preoccupied with his friend to chase after him. Maybe he would get out of this predicament after all._

_ He turned the corner and finally turned to look in front of him before stopping dead in his tracks. Jon stood there, his sword pointing in front of him as the man nearly impaled himself on it._

_ "And where do you think you're going?" Jon asked, taking a step forward and forcing the man backwards._

_ "Get out of my way, bastard. Lady Stark wouldn't shed a tear if you dropped dead right here right now."_

_ Jon shrugged the harsh words off; though he knew full well every part of it was true. Whether Lady Stark cared about him or not was the furthest thing on his mind right now. Right now his thoughts were focused on his good friend who had almost been raped by this poor excuse of a man._

_ Jon dug the blade deeper against the man's chest as he took another step forward. All he could think of was this man's intentions only a few minutes ago. He could picture it as he stared into his dirtied face. They would've rapped her, over and over again, taking turns while the other one recovered. They would've killed her, leaving her body in a dirty alley, and never would've shed a single tear about any of it. But no matter what Jon wanted to do to the man, his father would do ten times worse._

_ Gwynne watched as Robb raised his sword, slamming the hilt of it against the man's head and knocking him out instantly. Her eyes were red and swollen as she gasped for air. Robb slid his sword back into its sheath as he left the man and knelt down by her side._

_ He reached forward and gently wiped the blood from her lip with a gloved hand. His features had gone soft, concern for her filling his eyes as he watched her carefully. "Are you okay, Gwynne?"_

_ She nodded, unable to speak. Her body still shook from it all as her hands fumbled with the fabric of her dress, trying desperately to cover herself up. She didn't flinch when Robb raised his hand, tucking her tangled hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek._

_ "Tell me they didn't touch you." His voice was a near whisper as he spoke to her. He had hoped that he and Jon had gotten to her in time, but he still feared for the worst. For all he knew, those men had already had a go with her._

_ "They didn't rape me."_

_ A shaky sigh of relief slipped through Robb's lips as he pulled her terrified body against his. He held her there, one arm wrapped over her shoulders as the other clutched the back of her head. He heard her weep into his shoulder, her hands moving to wrap around his waist. He leaned down and gently kissed the top of her head, the smell of the alley radiating off her._

_ "There were two of them." He heard her say against his chest._

_ "I know. Don't worry, Jon got the second one."_

_ More tears fell from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks when she heard that. They had saved her. Both of them._

_ Footsteps approached them as Jon dragged the unconscious body behind him. He let the body drop to the floor as he came to Gwynne's side, kneeling down on the other side of her. He reached forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, his hand inches away from his brother's._

_ "Gwynne."_

_ Her body stayed against Robb's for comfort, but she turned her head to look at Jon. "Thank you."_

_ "Gods, are you alright, Gwynne?" A third voice rang out._

_ All three of them glanced up at watch Theon as he approached, coming to a stop the moment he saw her. Her dress was torn, blood covered her face, and there were two unconscious men only a few feet away from her. Concern for her consumed him as he looked back and forth between the brothers._

_ "Was she-" Theon started._

_ "She's fine." Robb assured him, cutting him off before he could finish his thought._

_ Jon got to his feet and began walking to the unmoving bodies. "Theon, help me bring these men back to the castle. Father will want to take care of them himself."_

_ Had this been any other situation, Theon would've reminded Jon that he was a bastard and in no position to make demands of him. But the half brothers had not been the only ones to grow up with Gwynne. Theon had too. And though they had their fair share of arguments and fights in the past, he was just as protective of her as Jon and Robb were._

_ Without saying another word, Theon nodded and bent down to retrieve the bodies with Jon. Robb carefully helped Gwynne to her feet, noticing the look of shame on her face as her eyes fell to her torn dress._

_ He held onto her waist for support as they walked in front of Theon and Jon, making their way back to the castle. "Father will take care of those men. You'll never see them again. And it will be a clear example to every man in Winterfell who may ever have a thought of touching you."_

_ Robb had been right. Lord Stark was furious and had sentenced the two men to death the moment he had been told what happened. He and Lady Stark had rushed to Gwynne's side the moment Robb had woken them from their slumber to make sure she was unharmed. Gwynne couldn't remember much after they had gotten back to the castle, it all seemed like a blur, but she remembered hearing Ned growl when he saw the bruised and swollen mess her face had become._

_ He hadn't brought her into the world, but he still considered her as one of his own children. Her father had made him promise in his final moments that the good Lord would protect her and take care of her. And he had failed him._

_ She had accompanied the men to the field the next day as Lord Stark had wished her to. She stood behind Ned, feeling the eyes of the men around them on her face, or more specifically, on her bruises and busted lip. She heard Robb and Jon come to her side as the two men who tried to rape her were forced to their knees, their necks pressed against the thick bark under them._

_ Ned had wanted her there to see their final moments. He wanted her to hear the men as they begged for their lives, assuring the Lord that they would never touch another woman again. He wanted her to watch as he swung the sword that severed their heads from their shoulders. Lord Stark wanted her to know that though her name wasn't "Stark", she was just as much of a part of his family as any of his trueborn children. And he would be damned if he ever let any harm fall onto her while he was still living and breathing._

Gwynne shot up in her bed, gasping for air as her eyes darting around her dimly lit room. She was alone. Those men weren't here; they weren't even alive any longer. They weren't going to hurt her ever again. They were never going to rape her. Lord Stark saw to that personally. She knew all of that, yet still she couldn't help the nightmares and the fear that followed once she awoke from the nightmare.

She remembered hearing that it was only natural to have reoccurring dreams about the event. A whore had found her walking in the streets a few days after the incident. Of course, all of Winterfell had heard what had happened to the girl Lord Stark had adopted as one of his own. Word spread faster through the town than she would've liked.

Gwynne couldn't remember the girl's name. In fact, thinking about now, Gwynne wasn't sure if the girl had ever told her her name. Robb stood beside Gwynne, watching the young whore speak to his friend as she recited her own experience that unfortunately bore a much different ending.

"I know I'm nothing but a lowly whore, my lady, but when I heard what happened to you, I knew I had to speak to you."

Gwynne had smiled sweetly at the girl who must've been around her age. "Please, I'm no lady, and you are not a lowly whore. I'd love to hear what you have to say."

Robb couldn't help the smile that played at his lips as he watched Gwynne from the corner of his eye. From the time his father had brought Gwynne into his family, she had been treated like royalty. She was told that she could have anything she wanted and that she was as much as a Stark as the rest of them. But she had never let that go to her head. She never once looked down on the people of Winterfell. She considered herself lucky to live the life Ned had given to her and as far as she was concerned, she was not a noble. The people of Winterfell had never forgotten how she spoke to them as though they were all equal. It was one of the many reasons that the people of this kingdom cared for her so dearly.

The girl smiled and nodded, grateful that someone inside the castle walls of Winterfell would speak to her so kindly. She had heard tales of Gwynne's kindness, but she had expected the girl to shoo her away and instruct her to never speak to her again. She was in so way expecting her to be so sweet towards a common whore. "Thank you, my lady," she said, even though Gwynne had just told her not to address her in such a manner. "When I first began working in the brothel, I was young and scared. I had no choice in the matter, you see. My father had fallen ill and the good Gods took him soon after. My mother was unable to support both her and me, and so she sold me to a brothel for whatever little coin she could get. It was my first night there, and I didn't want to please the man that walked through my door. I tried to reason with him, but there is no reasoning with a man once he has his mind set on something."

Gwynne listened intently to the girl as she spoke, reciting her tale. She watched her carefully, taking in every word of the story as it captivated her. She tried to imagine herself in the brothel, having no choice but to please whichever man entered and shuddered at the mere thought.

"Did he rape you?"

The girl nodded solemnly. "He did, my lady."

Gwynne noticed Robb tense beside her at the admission. It was something to hear about a girl being raped outside the castle walls, but it was something else entirely to hear the story being told first hand by a victim. He could almost picture her crying, pleaded for the man not to take her, praying to the Gods to grant her mercy. A prayer they surely never heard.

"He took my maidenhead. I couldn't walk for days because he had caused me so much pain. That was years ago, and I still find myself waking up screaming. I just wanted you to know that it will get better. You may still have nightmares, years from now, but you will wake up with the satisfaction of knowing that they never had a chance to take what no man should take on his own free will. You have protectors to keep you safe and they have done an excellent job. I just wanted to tell you myself that you're not alone in feeling the way that you do, my Lady. I hope I haven't taken too much of your time." She finished quickly, scared that she had spoken for far too long.

Gwynne shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. "Not at all. I'm sorry for what he did to you."

"Thank you, my Lady." The girl bowed her head and turned her back to Robb and Gwynne, making her way back to the brothel she had been forced to call home.

"The next time someone forces himself on you, find me. I may not be as strong as the Starks, but I'd still like to know."

The girl stopped walking and smiled sweetly at Gwynne, almost unable to believe that someone actually cared about her wellbeing. It was something she hadn't been used to feeling, not since her mother had sold her like a horse. "Thank you, my Lady. I will."

Robb turned to Gwynne once the girl had disappeared from their site. "And what exactly do you plan to do with a rapist, Gwynne?"

She shrugged at his question. It was true, what _would_ she do with a rapist? She wasn't strong enough to take care of him on her own, and she knew that no one would care if a whore was raped. After all, they were there to please the men that entered through the strong wooden doors, whether they liked it or not.

"Perhaps nothing. Perhaps I'll gut him with your sword."

The memory played through Gwynne's head, ending abruptly when she heard steady knocking at her bedroom door. She pushed herself out of bed, noting that the sun had not risen just yet. She cursed herself silently as she slid a robe over her thin nightgown. Had she made so much noise that she had woken someone?

Her palms were sweaty as she approached the door and opened it, terrified to see Cat or Ned standing there with anger on their tired features. A sigh of relief slipped through her lips when she saw it was only Robb. She smiled at him and made note of the concern on his face.

"Are you alright, Gwynne?"

She finally steadied her heartbeat and nodded. "I am. I'm sorry if I woke you, my Lord."

Robb laughed breathlessly. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you not to call me that. Especially when we're alone. No one will care what you call me if it's just you and I."

Gwynne smiled shyly, her eyes falling to the ground between them. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I heard you from across the hall."

Her eyes shot up, a sudden panic rising in them. Robb was quick to finish his thought, noticing the look in her eyes.

He raised his hands and shook his head to reassure her. "Don't worry, you weren't that loud. I was still awake. I barely heard you."

"I'm sorry if I startled you, Lord…Robb." She corrected herself quickly.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me? Maybe that will help both of us fall asleep quickly again."

Robb saw the look of doubt on her face, the hesitation as she opened her mouth to respond. He noticed that ever since the attack, Gwynne had stopped exploring Winterfell when she was restless. At night, at least. He had told her, over and over again, that it would never happen again, but she was still uncomfortable with the idea. It was a good thing, he told himself. Just because he and Jon had happened to hear her leave her bedroom that night, it didn't mean that they were always going to be around to protect her. In fact, he would've preferred it to be this way.

But still, he couldn't help but feel guilty for her fear. She had always loved to go for a walk in the night. It helped clear her head, she always told him. And now she couldn't even do that without a surge of fear ripping through her.

"I would love to, Robb."

They walked together in silence, both enjoying the cool night breeze as it blew past them. Gwynne looked to Robb's side and noticed that his sword was strapped to his waist. She frowned to herself before gazing up to look upon his face.

"You have your sword with you." It was more of a statement than it was a question. Robb nodded, glancing over his shoulder to look at her. "Do you sleep with it, as well?" She asked with a broad smile.

"A man can never be too prepared, Gwynne. When I heard you, I feared for the worst."

Gwynne stopped walking, an eyebrow rising. "And if someone was attacking me? They would've come to open the door and let you in so you could slaughter them where they stand?"

Robb stopped by her side and turned his body to face her, his hand absentmindedly resting on the hilt of his blade. "If you didn't answer, I would've entered. And yes, I would have slaughtered him where he stood."

A shaky breath slipped through her dry lips. She stared at him, probably longer than she should have, as she admired the man he had grown to be. His auburn curls fell around his face, messy from a sleepless night. His blue eyes were striking, even in the darkness. It was amazing how quickly he had grown to become a man. She could still remember playing games in the fields, running after each other mercifully until they both collapsed from exhaustion. It seemed as though those memories were a lifetime ago. She hadn't realized that he was a man until he stood before her in that moment.

Robb took a step forward, his gloved hands reaching up to cup her face within them. His face was inches from hers and her breath hitched in her throat as she stared into his glorious eyes. The kind of eyes a woman could easily get lost in if she wasn't careful.

"I will never let anything happen to you. Neither will Jon."

Gwynne smiled and reached her hands up, placing them over Robb's. "I know. And for that, I will be forever grateful. Your family has been nothing but kind to me since my father's death. There isn't enough gold in the world to repay you. The Gods are truly watching over me to give me such a blessing."

Every inch his body was telling Robb to lean in and kiss the lips that haunted him at night. He wanted nothing more than to feel them against his, to taste her once more. He still remembered her sweetness, even after all these years. He knew her kisses would be different now, sweeter, more intoxicating. He wanted to claim her lips as his own, but for the life of him, he couldn't make a move.

"Speaking of Jon…"

Robb let go of her face, his hands dropping to his side faster than he would've liked. She must have noticed the abruptness. He watched as a look of confusion flashed over her features but vanished just as quickly as it had come.

"What of him?"

"Isn't there something you can do to calm Lady Stark's hatred of him? It's heartbreaking to see." She admitted.

Robb let out a heavy sign, nodding in agreement. "I know. I've tried, Gwynne. Believe me, I've tried. But she won't hear of it. She's set in her ways and won't budge from them."

Robb started walking again but stopped when he felt Gwynne's hand reach out to take a hold of his arm. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed the desperation on her face. He had that same look years ago when he tried to tell his mother that Jon's existence wasn't his fault.

"He hasn't done anything wrong, Robb. It's not fair that she treats him with such harshness. She cares for me than her husband's own blood. It's not right."

"She spoke to me about it, once. When I was too young to understand her words fully." Robb admitted. He was staring into her eyes but he was miles away. "She told me that each time she looks at him, each time she hears his voice, she pictures her husband, her Lord, lying with another woman. And every time she does, it breaks her heart a little more. It wasn't Jon's fault, he didn't ask my father to betray his wife and break his vows. But he did, regardless. And in a way, I'm kind of glad he did."

A look of confusion washed over Gwynne's face as Robb continued.

"If he hadn't, I wouldn't have Jon. Neither of us would. He might only be my half brother, and a bastard at that, but I think of him as more than that. He _is_ my brother, despite what anyone else has to say about the matter."

A smile finally spread across Gwynne's lips at Robb's kind words. She knew that his siblings felt the same, except for Sansa, and was grateful for that. At least if Jon was forced to live in a world full of hatred, he had his brothers and sister by his side to carry him through.

"Don't worry about him, Gwynne. Jon is a strong person. He will overcome whatever my mother throws his way."

Though she had so many more things to say on the subject and Robb's final words, Gwynne decided it would be best to bite her tongue and nod in agreement. Speaking of a solution wasn't going to make Jon's life any easier. Only the realization of her own hatred would change Lady Stark's mind.

They began walking side by side again and Gwynne decided to change the subject to break the silence that had grown between them. "So what did you dream about that had you awake at this hour?"

Robb was taken aback by the question. "I never said it was a dream that kept me awake."

"Please, Robb. It's written all over your face. It must have been some dream to keep _you _up."

Robb chuckled and shook his head. "It was nothing. Just an unsettling dream."

Gwynne nodded and decided not to push the topic any further. She knew Robb well enough to know when he didn't want to speak of something. They remained quiet the rest of the way back to the castle, the sun finally breaking over the horizon and giving them natural light to guide them the rest of the way.

Always the gentleman, Robb walked Gwynne to her door and wished her a good night, well, whatever was left of it, at least. She flashed him a smile before wishing him the same and quietly closing her door.

Robb stood on the other side, his smile slowly faded as his dream replayed in his head. He made his way across the hall and into his own room as he shut the door behind him, leaning his back up against it.

He glanced over at his bed, the very bed that had him tossing and turning from his dream.

He remembered feeling her against him, feeling the warm of her skin as he pressed his body against hers. He felt it as though it had happened only moments ago and couldn't have been further from a dream. The way she tasted, the way her soft skin trembled under his calloused fingertips, he could feel it all. He could hear her moaning into his mouth as his fingers trailed down to stomach, finding her wet and aching for him. He remembered the way she moved under him, giving her innocence to him as he slowly found his way inside of her.

Unfortunately, he also remembered when the beautiful dream had turned into a nightmare.

He remembered hearing her sneak out of her bedroom and curiosity had gotten the best of him. He had followed her outside, walking far enough behind her so she wouldn't hear him. He stopped dead in his tracks, watching and unable to believe his eyes as she threw herself into another man's arms. It wasn't until the other man had torn his lips away from hers that he realized who it was.

He had woken abruptly the moment he saw the face of Jon Snow.


	3. And Then He Kissed Me

** That's right, everyone, it's that time again! I've finally managed to steal some more work wifi and I'm popping in just for a quick update. I've already began working on the next chapter, so that one will hopefully be up sometime next week, if not the week after.**

** I'd love to hear some feedback from you guys, so by all means, please leave a review and let me know what you think of the story so far. I look forward to hearing from all of you, and enjoy this next chapter!**

* * *

"Alright, now let's try this again, for the _hundredth_ time."

A small grin of amusement spread across Gwynne's lips as Arya let out a long sigh of frustration. She walked around Gwynne, her hands resting against the small of her back as she studied the older woman's form carefully.

She narrowed her eyes at Gwynne, fighting against the urge to roll her eyes. "Stand up straight." Gwynne straightened the hunch in her back. "Take a deep breath." Gwynne inhaled deeply, letting it out once her lungs had their fill. "Relax your body and focus on the target."

Gwynne nodded, closing an eye to try and focus on the target in front of her. Her tongue darted out, running across her upper lip as she blocked out the noises that surrounded her. Inhaling deeply again, Gwynne let go of the arrow and let it fly across the training yard.

"No, no, no! That was terrible! That might have been worse than the last time!" Arya continued grumbling under her breath as she stomped over to the target, retrieving the arrow that flew past it.

Gwynne laughed to herself, watching Arya shake her head to herself as she struggled to find where the arrow had fallen.

"Why do you insist on torturing the poor girl?" A powerful voice asked from behind her.

Gwynne spun around, recognizing the voice immediately. She bowed out of respect and looked up at Lord Stark as he stood in front of her, his lips curved upward in amusement. "Forgive me, my Lord. I suppose I just enjoy teasing her a little bit. I hope I haven't offended you."

Ned's smile grew as he shook his head, placing a hand on the small of her back to lead her away from his youngest daughter. "What offends me is that you still call me Lord when I've been like a father to you."

Gwynne kept her eyes on the floor, making her way back to the barrel full of bows as she placed hers inside with the rest. "Make no mistake, Lord Stark, I love my father, but you are the only father I've ever known."

Ned watched her features carefully as a wave of sadness came over them. He nodded solemnly, her soft words bearing more of a meaning than she had probably thought. He hated how he had replaced her father. He was a good man, a man who would have raised her with as much love as the good Lord himself had. It hurt him to feel as though his shadow overpowered her father's. It shouldn't have been like that.

"Would you care to go for a walk with me, Gwynne?"

She brushed her dirtied hands against the fabric of her dress absentmindedly as she nodded. "Of course, my Lord."

Ned and Gwynne walked side by side outside of the castle walls, enjoying the cool breeze that blew past them. Days like these wouldn't last for much longer. Winter was coming and all of these warm memories would be a thing of the past. There was no sense in staying inside the walls of the castle and wasting the last few glorious days that remained.

"Your father was a good man." Ned finally said, breaking the silence that had grown between them.

Gwynne kept her head down, her eyes watching the grass disappear underneath the fabric of her dress as she walked in time with Ned. "I've heard, my Lord. I'm sad to say that I don't remember much about my father. I just remember him saying a few things here and there." A sigh slipped through her lips as her voice became a near whisper. "I'm ashamed to say that I don't even remember what he looked like anymore."

"You look just like him. Sometimes I swear to the Gods I look at you and it's like I'm seeing a ghost." Ned realized his words were probably hurting her more than comforting her as he had originally intended so he finished his thought with a different tone. "But thank the Gods you have your mother's features to even it out."

She laughed under her breath as they continued to walk further and further away from the strong walls of Winterfell. Her laughter slowly disappeared as the next question left her lips. "And my mother? What did she look like?"

Ned let out a heavy sigh, thinking to the past to recall what she had looked like. It was all so long ago; he strained just to picture her face. But he could vaguely still remember her, smiling and laughing as she affectionately wrapped an arm around her swollen belly. "She was beautiful. Your father was a very lucky man when she agreed for his hand in marriage. We spent countless hours trying to figure out how he had convinced her of such a thing."

Gwynne opened her mouth to ask more questions about her mother when the sound of blades hitting one another rang out into the air. Gwynne frowned as she looked to where the sound was coming from, her eyes glancing over at Ned beside her. He looked as surprised at the noise as she was. She stayed behind him as he walked closer, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he went to investigate the sound.

The went past the tall trees, the bushes reaching up to rub against Gwynne's hips as she silently moved behind Lord Stark. She poked her head out from behind him when he came to a stop, a silent sigh of relief leaving her lips when she saw who was sword fighting.

"Come on, bastard. Is that all you have?" Theon mocked as his blade forced Jon back another step.

Ned cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way Theon had spoken to his son. Ned had no idea what people said to Jon Snow when he wasn't around, but Ned would rather have the Gods damn him to the seven hells for eternity than to overhear someone speak to Jon in such a way. The two young men stopped sword fighting and turned to face Lord Stark as he looked on unimpressed.

"Father."

"Lord Stark."

"I trust you boys are being careful with your swords."

"Yes, my Lord." Both Jon and Theon answered, their hair clinging to their faces from the sweat that covered them.

"Theon, come with me. Jon, I trust you'll bring Gwynne back to the castle safely."

"I will, father." Jon assured Ned as Theon left his side. Jon noticed the sneer Theon shot him as he walked away but forced himself to ignore it. Ned turned away from him to walk side by side his ward, speaking in a hushed voice so no one else would hear.

Gwynne watched Theon leave, his eyes avoiding hers as if she had the plague and making eye contact would have him fall ill. She shrugged it off and closed the distance between herself and Jon.

"So, did you win?"

Jon smiled slightly and slid his sword back into its sheath. "I probably would have if you hadn't interrupted our sparring session."

Gwynne walked with Jon, moving further away from the castle. "So, you lost then?"

"What were you and father doing all the way out here?" Jon asked, changing the subject to protect his manhood.

"He was telling me about my parents." Her fingers grasped at the fabric of her dress as her mind drifted aimlessly. "He said my mother was beautiful."

"I have heard that throughout the kingdom. Everyone says your mother was a beauty. Perhaps that's where you got your looks from." Jon felt like stabbing himself with his own sword the moment those words left his lips. He felt his heart throb in his chest, the beating growing dangerously loud in his ears. His cheeks began burning and suddenly he was thankful for the hours he had spent sparring with Theon. She wouldn't notice the new sweat lathering his features.

Gwynne stopped walking, forcing Jon to stop a few steps in front of her. She tilted her head to the side as she watched the back of his head. "You think I'm beautiful?"

Jon kept his back turned to her to hide the blush that burned at his cheeks. He shrugged, trying to play the comment off smoothly. "I suppose you're not that bad."

Gwynne reached out and playfully punched Jon's arm at his comment. He laughed and finally turned to her, clutching his arm as though she had just broken it. "What was that for?"

"I'm 'not that bad'?" She asked, taking a step closer to him so she could stare straight into his eyes. She put her hands on her hips to pretend she had taken offence as she cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, I've seen better, but-"

Gwynne's mouth fell open as she reached forward and pushed him so hard he stumbled backwards and fell onto the ground. He found himself laughing so hard he could barely hold back the tears that blurred at his eyes. He watched her crouch down in front of him, leaning forward so he could hear her over his own laughter.

"I'll have you know that there are many men who wish to wed me."

His laughter came to a slow stop as he studied her features carefully. He edged closer to her, leaving barely any space between them as he shot back. "Oh? And yet you're still not wed. Perhaps there aren't that many men who desire you after all."

"Jon! Look, just because you lost to Theon-"

This time it was Jon who pushed her. She stumbled onto her behind and let out a gasp at the unexpected fall. She glared at him from under loose strands of her hair and jumped at him, throwing him to the ground as she sat on top of him. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them at either side of his head, a cocky smile of victory on her lips.

"It seems that you aren't so strong now, are you Jon Snow?"

Jon grunted as he moved quickly underneath her, turning the tables and throwing her onto her back. He leaned over her, one hand resting on her hip and the other on the back of her head, protecting her from the impact against the hard ground. "I should say the same for you, Gwynne."

The laughter soon faded as they found themselves in a compromising position. Jon could feel her breathing under him, her breasts gently caressing his chest with each breath she took. He couldn't pull himself away from her eyes as he stared into them, trying desperately to find something to say.

Gwynne didn't say anything when she felt his hand slowly leave the back of her head, move to cup her cheek. She had gotten lost in his eyes and found herself unable to move, unable to think. All she knew was that Jon Snow was lying on top of her, the warmth of his hands radiating through the gloves and taking over all her senses.

_Kiss me, Jon Snow. Kiss me._

He let out a heavy sigh and pulled away from her, leaving her with a confused and hurt look on her face. He sat on the ground, lifting a knee up to rest his arm over it as he stared intently at the grass around him, almost ashamed to look at her directly. He heard Gwynne shuffle beside him, pulling herself up so she was sitting on her knees and felt her eyes on him. He felt them burn right through him as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"I'm sorry." Was all Jon could muster up at the moment. He hung his head in shame. What was he thinking by throwing her onto the ground and mounting her like she was a common whore? If her father had lived to see that he would've cut Jon's head off without a moment of hesitation. If his own father saw that…Jon shuddered at the mere thought.

Gwynne cleared her throat. You could cut the tension around them with a sword. She found herself speechless and being so close to Jon had left her breathless. She waited for him to turn to her, to grab her and crush his lips against his. She could almost taste him on her when she licked her dry lips. It was only then that she noticed they were quivering.

Two men had her in the same position no more than a few years back. At the time, she couldn't have been more terrified. She could still remember her mind screaming at her, demanding that she fight against them, determined not to let them have her. She would have sooner died than let them have any part of her body.

She had been waiting for the fear to overwhelm her body once she found herself in the same situation with Jon. She had expected it, had almost accepted the feeling that would soon consume her. Only it never came. Instead, she found herself aching for his touch, for the feel of his lips against hers, his warm tongue in her mouth as he claimed it as his own.

As Gwynne battled with her racing thoughts, Jon had gotten to his feet beside her. He held a hand out towards Gwynne, his eyes peeled to the ground as though she were the most disgusting thing in the world.

Hesitantly, she took his outreached hand, and wasn't surprised when neither one of them had said a word on the long walk back to the walls of Winterfell.

"_I saw Robb with that girl again today." Gwynne puffed angrily, crossing her arms over her chest as her feet dangled off the edge of Jon's bed._

_ He glanced up and cocked an eyebrow at her curiously. "So?"_

_ Gwynne let out an aggravated sigh and continued to kick her feet back and forth. Her eyes fell to the floor as tears burned at them. With every beat her heart took, it felt as though a blade of a knife was piercing through it._

_ Ever since they were children Gwynne had been smitten with Robb Stark. Everyone in Winterfell saw it. Well, everyone except Robb himself. He was oblivious to the way she followed him around everywhere, on his heels like a puppy loyal to him and only him. She had even overheard Ned and Cat speaking about it once behind closed doors._

_ Gwynne knew she shouldn't have been eavesdropping on the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, but when she heard them speak of the young girl and Robb, Gwynne couldn't help but put her ear to the old wooden door, listening carefully to every word spoken on the other side._

_ "I think they'd be a great match for each other, Cat. They've grown up together and they get along wonderfully. They already know everything about one another. There are no secrets between them, which I think will only make the love between them all the stronger."_

_ "You know I love Gwynne as though she were my own child." Gwynne bit her lip, her body shaking violently against the door as she heard the doubt in Lady Stark's voice. "But is that really a wise match for Robb? He is our first born, the heir to Winterfell. He should be married to a Lady, to someone of noble birth. Not your guardian's daughter."_

_ Tears stung at Gwynne's eyes as Lady Stark's words pierced her heart. Suddenly, she understood how Jon felt every time Cat spoke to him. She had never understood how much words could hurt until she heard them being used against her._

_ "I can't think of a better match for our first born and the heir to Winterfell." Ned argued calmly. "She may not be of noble birth, but she's of the North, and will be a Lady sooner than we both realize. I believe that Robb and Gwynne are meant to be together, Cat. Think it over. They're still children; we've plenty of time before this decision should be made final."_

_ "Gwynne? You okay?" _

_ Jon's voice snapped Gwynne back to reality as she turned to look at the young man sitting beside her. She forced a smile and bit back the tears, trying to calm her racing heart._

_ "He'll never marry me. I'm not of noble birth. I'll never be good enough for Robb Stark, future heir of Winterfell." The words threatened to choke her as they finally slipped through her lips._

_ Jon wished he could have said something to make her feel better. He understood how she felt. He understood it all too well. Growing up he knew he could never really amount to anything. Being a bastard and having the world know it had destroyed any hope he ever had of living a fulfilled life. No woman would ever want to lay with him, let alone wed him and bring a bastard's child into the world._

_ He would never be the man his half brother was destined to be. One day the land of Winterfell would be his and he would rule over it as proud and strong as their father had before him. He would take a wife and he would father many children. Robb's future was exactly the opposite as Jon's and it killed him every time he thought of it._

_ "I'm sorry, Gwynne." Jon moved closer to the young girl so their legs were touching. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer so her head was leaning against his shoulder._

_ "That Shannon girl isn't of noble birth. Her parents are commoners. She doesn't even deserve to be in Robb's presence. I don't understand why he won't look at me the way he looks at her." Gwynne scoffed angrily._

_ Jon's fingertips absentmindedly tightened around Gwynne's shoulder. Nothing hurt him more than to hear Gwynne's heartbroken words. The truth was, over the years, Jon had fallen in love with the young girl he had grown up with. In truth, they were only eleven years old and neither had a clue to what love was. But Jon knew that he was in love with her._

_ But she only had eyes for his brother. And who could blame her? Why fall for the bastard, a boy who would grow into a man who had nothing to offer, when you could fall for the heir of Winterfell and have a life of luxury and power?_

_ "Maybe he would like me better if I were more…experienced." Gwynne said suddenly._

_ She pulled away from Jon even though he kept his arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looked into his wide eyes and smiled sweetly._

_ "Teach me how to kiss, Jon Snow."_

_ Jon nearly choked on the air in his throat. He stared at her, waiting for her to burst out laughing and playfully punch his shoulder, reassuring him that it was just a joke to lighten the mood. She always joked to lighten the mood._

_ But she just stared back at him with nothing but determination in her eyes. She wasn't joking about this. She wanted him to kiss her, to teach her how to kiss. As if he knew anymore about it than she did._

_ "I…" Jon couldn't find any more words. They all seemed to get lodged in his throat as they tried to leave his lips._

_ Gwynne reached forward and cupped his warm cheeks in the palm of her hands. She leaned forward, inching towards Jon's trembling lips._

_ "You're not scared, are you, Jon?" She teased quietly. "Kiss me, Jon."_

_ With a trembling hand, Jon reached forward and took a steady hold of her neck. He pulled her closer so there was no space between them. When their lips finally met, his body froze with fear. It took him a few seconds to compose himself before deepening the kiss._

_ He hated himself for so many reasons in that moment. She would have to live out the rest of her days knowing her first kiss had been with a bastard. He knew she would look back on it eventually and despise herself for being so desperate to have Robb that she kissed his brother, the bastard. But nothing hurt him more than to know that she was merely kissing him as practice before she kissed the one she wanted. His brother._

_ This meant nothing to her. He was just a stepping stone, someone she intended to practice with to perfect the art of kissing until she could kiss the one her lips truly craved for._

_ He felt a lump swell in his throat as the kiss grew more intense. His mind screamed at him to pull away from her, to stop letting her use him, but his body refused to budge. He had dreamed about this, about her lips against his, for years. He wasn't about to pull away from her, even though he knew he was nothing but a tool to her._

_ When they finally broke the kiss, both of them were breathless as they stared at each other. There was something in her eyes, something Jon couldn't identify. He had never seen a look like that before in his life. She looked…torn. Jon could only hope that the look on her face was a result of now finding herself torn between two brothers._

_ The bastard and the Lord. The Gods would only know which she would choose. But something told Jon that it wouldn't be him._

Jon awoke abruptly from his dream and shot up in bed. He felt something shift in his lap and realized that he was stiff from the memory of her sweet kisses. He could almost taste her on his lips when he brought a shaky hand up, his fingertips scraping against his bottom lip.

That was the first time he had kissed someone. He had many restless nights after that. He tossed and turned in his bed for hours, picturing her lips on his again, her warm breath against his face. He could almost feel her lying beside him, their bare skin pressed against each other for warmth throughout the cold night.

He had tried to forget her lips throughout the years. He knew that they could never truly be together, so it seemed like the logical thing to do. So he tried to get over her by going to a brothel.

Theon had convinced him to give his favourite whore, Ros, a try. Theon had even paid for Jon's time with her himself, telling him that it would be worth every ounce of coin that Theon had tossed into the bastard's hand.

And Jon had believed that up until he found himself in a room in a brothel with a whore named Ros. When she kissed him, it felt empty, forced even. Jon knew that she was only doing this because he had paid her to, he could feel it in every move and every word she spoke.

He felt nothing inside of him when she kissed him. He felt disgusted with himself when she moaned into his mouth, whispering his name over and over again. This was wrong. So wrong. Every inch of his body was yelling at him to get dressed and leave with whatever dignity a bastard could have.

He watched her undress slowly, inching the fabric off her slender body as if to entice him. But when he watched her bare herself to him, all he could think of was Gwynne.

He pictured her standing before him, naked and waiting for him. He let his mind drift as he closed his eyes, picturing her warm, gently touch on his bare skin as she gave herself to him in a way that no other man would ever have.

When he heard her call his name, his eyes shot open, his heart freezing within his chest. But when he looked in front of him he realized that the woman touching him wasn't Gwynne.

Ros watched his cautiously, smiling as if unsure. "Are you alright, Jon? Would you like to join me on the bed? It's much more comfortable than this chair. Unless this is where you would like to take me."

Jon stood up off the chair and pushed her hands off his bare chest. He reached for his shirt and quickly threw it over himself, keeping his eyes peeled to the ground as a wave of shame washed over him.

"I'm sorry, this was a mistake. Keep the money and please don't speak of this to anyone."

"I won't, my Lord." Ros assured him.

Jon shot a glance over his shoulder when he heard her call him "Lord". He couldn't tell if she were mocking him or not, but he decided it was best to leave the brothel before he found out. This was enough humiliation for one day, Jon decided as he exited out the front door.

Jon hadn't been with another woman since. He hadn't touched one, nor had he let one touch him. Not that women were lining up to touch Lord Stark's bastard son, anyway.

The sun had already risen and Jon found himself dreading getting out of bed and starting his day. His thoughts were haunting him, mocking him, as he dressed and made his way out of his bed chamber. He didn't feel like eating so he avoided the dinning hall and ventured through the streets of Winterfell.

He found himself walking beyond the walls, drifting aimlessly with no knowledge of where his legs were taking him. He lost track of how long he had been walking, clearly caught up in the thoughts and questions that bombarded him.

"Come here, little beauty!" A soft voice called from a distance.

Jon stopped dead in his tracks and strained to listen. He knew that voice; he would have known that voice anywhere. But what was she doing all the way out here? And who was she talking to?

When he heard her groan in frustration, he followed the sound until he came across her and the white horse he and Robb had shown her a few days ago. He stopped and continued to watch her, his body hidden in the foliage of the forest that surrounded Gwynne and the wild horse.

Gwynne's snow white dress matched the powerful beast's coat as it danced around the girl, as though it were playing with her. She laughed as she chased after the horse, whispering soft words of comfort to the beast to try and entice it to come to her.

Jon kept a hand on the hilt of his sword and watched the wild horse carefully. He cursed Gwynne silently for being as foolish as she was right now. Did she think this was some kind of joke? Did she not understand that a wild horse could kill her without a moment of hesitation? What was she trying to prove by acting so foolishly?

"Okay, my love. Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." Gwynne assured it sweetly.

With her hands raised up by her head, she slowly sunk to the ground beneath her. She rested the palms of her hands on the grass by either side of her and tilted her head back to watch the horse as it slowly began to calm down.

Jon's breath hitched in his throat as he watched the beast cautiously walk over to her. It towered over her, its great legs easily capable of trampling her to death without any effort. He withdrew his sword, only slightly, but found himself frozen in awe as the horse leaned its head down to nuzzle Gwynne's neck lovingly.

Her giggle floated through the air as she stroked the horse's thick neck. Her fingers didn't tremble as she stroked the beast. "That's a good girl. See? I'm not so scary after all, am I?"

Jon was mesmerized by the sight. Had she truly managed to tame a wild beast in a matter of a few days? How many times had she snuck out here, by herself, to try and calm the beast and to lure it towards her? As much as Jon admired her lack of fear and determination, he couldn't help but feel the need to scold her later on.

Finally, Jon stepped forward, letting his sword fall back into his sheath but never taking his hand away from the handle. He walked carefully, cautious not to scare the horse and have it harm the only girl he had ever loved.

Both the animal and Gwynne heard footsteps approach and looked in Jon's direction. The horse, suddenly startled, jumped away from Gwynne and let out a loud neigh, warning the approaching man not to take another step forward. Jon stopped in his tracks again as Gwynne slowly got to her feet, turning to look at him.

"Jon, what are you doing out here?"

Jon opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the horse before he could get a word out. The beast turned and ran, darting back into the forest, spooked by the young man's presence.

Gwynne turned and watched the horse gallop away from her, a sigh slipping through her lips. So close. She had gotten so close to taming the horse. The beast hadn't let her touch her before; she had never seemed so calm and sure to approach the young girl. And now she was gone.

"What in the seven hells do you think you're doing, Gwynne? Have you lost your mind?" Jon asked as he came up to her.

"No, I don't believe that I have. Why, have you?"

"This isn't funny. Do you take this as a joke? That horse could have killed you!"

"But she didn't. She's just lonely out here. She just wants company, she wants someone to touch her and love her."

Jon reached forward and grabbed a steady hold of Gwynne's wrist, pulling her towards him. "I've seen you do many foolish things when we were growing up, but this is by far the most foolish thing you've ever done. Coming all the way out here, by yourself, _unarmed_, to try and tame a wild horse that could kill you without a second thought?"

She smiled, tilting her head up to stare Jon in the eyes, as cocky as ever. "You're just jealous because I tamed her first. Besides, what does it matter to you what happens to me, Jon? I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself."

He wasn't stupid; he knew she could take care of herself. She had too much of her father in her to allow anything to happen to her. She had her parents watching over her, protecting her from harm, ever since the day they had passed. But still, the memory of her lying half beaten in the alley flashed through his mind for the millionth time.

But how many times could she be spared before her parents were unable to protect her? One of these days, they would blink and it would be too late to save her from whatever dangers awaited her. Surely they would only be able to protect her for so long.

"I just don't want anything happening to you, Gwynne. None of us do. You must be more careful in the future. Promise me." Jon held her tighter, his fingertips digging into the skin of her wrist.

If it had been any other man holding her in such a way, she would have been terrified. But she knew that Jon would never hurt her. She trusted him with her life, the same as she trusted Robb. The brothers, along with Lord Stark himself, were the only men she had ever trusted. And no matter how angry Jon seemed in this moment, that thought never faded from her mind.

She bit her bottom lip nervously. Jon was about to force her to make a promise she knew she was never going to be able to keep. Something had drawn her to the wild horse, something that she didn't want to walk away from. But for the sake of her old friend, she nodded and quietly promised him that it would never happen again.

Jon yanked her body closer so she was pressed up against him as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her in place. She rested her hands against his chest as she resting her head against him, closing her eyes and listening carefully to the beating of his heart. She could hear it racing frantically beneath the fabric of his shirt, waiting for it to calm down and beat at a regular pace once again.

But it didn't. In fact, it seemed to beat more frantically with every moment that passed. Finally, Gwynne pulled her head away from his chest, tilting her head to look upon his face.

His eyes were staring straight ahead, as though the most interesting thing in the world was standing behind her and he couldn't tear his eyes away. In reality, she knew that only trees stood behind her and couldn't understand how he could find those more interesting than the girl wrapped in his arms.

"Do you remember our first kiss?" She asked in a whisper. She felt his fingers tense against her skin and couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips.

The truth was, she had been playing their first kiss over and over again in her head ever since they had almost repeated it out here, many years later.

Jon never broke his trance as he nodded solemnly. "I remember. You wanted to practice on me before you kissed my brother."

She could hear the distain in his voice as he spoke and suddenly she felt a ping of guilt. She reached her hands up and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look down at her. "Children say foolish things when they're upset. And as you said earlier, I have done some foolish things in my years. I have no doubt that I've said even more foolish things."

Jon looked down at her, the face that haunted his dreams every time he closed his eyes. Her wide eyes stared back at him, her tongue darting out to lick her lips, as if silently begging to feel his against hers again.

Jon tried to stop himself; he tried to rationalize with his thoughts to walk away before he did something they'd both regret. She wasn't his to kiss. She wasn't his to touch. But still, despite it all, he found himself leaning down to find her lips.

Jon's hands left her shoulders, his fingers finding her hair as he grabbed the back of her head, embracing the way her soft hair felt against his rough fingertips. He felt her grab the fabric of his shirt tightly, trying to pull him closer to her as though it were possible. The only way they could be closer is if he were inside of her.

His cock twitched at the though and he knew that she had felt it against her when she laughed against his lips. He tried to pull away from her, ashamed that he couldn't control his body, but she reached up and quickly grabbed his face, keeping his lips against hers.

She had never seen what lay between a man's legs before, though over the years she had heard many tales. She had also heard many stories of what a woman could do down there that could bring even the strongest man to his knees. She wondered if Jon had ever had a woman touch him or open her legs to him before. She knew he had never fully been with a woman, but surely there were other things he could have done with one.

Gwynne ignored the thoughts as she continued to kiss Jon, her body consumed with the tingles his lips were sending through her entire body. His tongue explored her mouth, tangling with hers as he moaned against her, pressing his hips harder against her.

She pulled away from his lips for a minute and Jon took the opportunity to attack her neck with his lips. He kissed her roughly as her fingers found his long, dark hair. She shut her eyes tightly and a deep, throaty moan slipped through her lips. She moaned his name against his ear, feeling as though her legs were going to give out on her any minute.

Finally, Jon found the strength inside of him to pull away from her intoxicating skin. He rested his forehead against hers, opening his eyes to meet hers as they both gasped for breath. He had expected her to look terrified, to see regret on her soft, delicate features, for allowing Ned's bastard to touch her again. Instead, she looked calm and happy as she smiled up at him. Satisfied, even.

She brought her hands over his as he held her face, his fingers trembling against her warm skin.

* * *

**Thanks for reading everyone! Drop a review and let me know what you thought!**

"If this is what happens when I do something foolish, perhaps I should act like a fool more often."


	4. Little Things

**So I just found out that I can update stories with my phone, which is an amazing discovery for me. I no longer have to lug my laptop around town with me to steal wifi, which I think is just the greatest thing in the world. That means I'll be able to update stories a hell of a lot faster!**

** I apologize for taking so long to update, but now that I know I can use my phone to do it, there shouldn't be much time between new chapters. So here goes another one. Hope everyone enjoys it! And don't forget to drop a review letting me know what you think!**

** Thanks for the patience everyone, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

"I don't know how comfortable I feel going to the feast tonight." Jon admitted in a hushed voice. He kept his back turned to his brother, almost ashamed to look him in the eye.

Robb glanced over his shoulders and shot him a confused look. "Why?"

Jon shrugged and fumbled clumsily with the belt wrapped around his waist. "I don't think Lady Stark wants me there."

Robb walked over to his brother and grabbed him by the shoulders, turning Jon around so he could face him. Robb saw the sadness and defeat on his brother's solemn features. You'd think that after seventeen years of seeing your brother look that way you'd get used to it. Unfortunately, Robb never did.

A part of him, a big part of him, always hated his mother for the way she treated Jon. Even when they were small children, Robb could still remember Cat ignoring Jon as he cried for her, for the comfort that only a mother could provide her child. And no matter how many times Robb tried to convince his mother to treat Jon better it had never seemed to work.

Robb flashed his brother a smile of reassurance, shaking him gently. "It's my name day celebration. I decide who I want at the feast, and I want my brother there."

Jon couldn't help but smile. "Thank you."

Gwynne smoothed out the wrinkles in the fabric of her long dress, a loose strand of her dark hair falling over her eyes. She blew it away from her face and stood up straight, finally satisfied with her appearance.

Sansa was nice enough to make a dress for Gwynne for Robb's name day, and Gwynne had to admit, it was absolutely gorgeous. That girl had an extraordinary gift, that much was plain to see.

It was a beautiful light pink colour that hung off her shoulders. The sleeves were short, something Gwynne had always preferred in a dress. The fact that Sansa had remembered that made her smile. Perhaps it was because of how many times Gwynne had complained about the fabric of extravagantly long sleeves getting in her way.

Gwynne heard footsteps approaching her bedroom door and decided it was probably a good time to head downstairs to the feast. As she pulled her door open she saw Robb standing there, his hand in a fist in the air, about to knock.

"My Lady." Robb said with a smirk.

Gwynne bowed her head. "My Lord. Happy name day. Why aren't you at the feast yet?"

"It's improper for a young lady to enter a feast by herself. I thought you could give me the pleasure of escorting you." Robb held his arm out to her, that gorgeous smile never once leaving his lips.

Gwynne laughed lightly and wrapped her arm around his. "I would be honoured, my Lord."

The feast was as extravagant as one would imagine. When one of the Stark children had a name day, Ned and Cat made sure to arrange a celebration that no one in the kingdom would forget.

There was an endless array of food being passed around, the luxurious smell of fresh fruits and well cooked meat filling the air of the dinning hall. By the third course, Gwynne couldn't possibly eat anymore and had to politely wave away platters of food as they were offered to her.

Gwynne was seated at a table with all the Stark children which had always been her favourite part of feasts. It was there that she had always felt as though she had been born a Stark. Listening to Arya and Sansa fight with each other, having to watch Robb as he separated the two sisters before they strangled each other, it all made her feel as though they truly were her siblings. They may not be of the same blood, but as far as Gwynne was concerned, they _were_ her siblings.

Gwynne took another sip of wine from her cup, listening to Bran as he announced to the table the crazy adventures only an innocent child could be blessed to have. She smiled as she listened to him talk about climbing the castle walls, something that Lady Stark would not have been pleased about if she had overheard.

"I don't think I've ever been that high before! I almost made it to the top of the castle today!" Bran said excitedly, practically jumping up and down in his seat.

Sansa rolled her eyes, "mother will kill you if she finds out. I don't know why you have to do that in the first place. It's so…improper."

Arya mocked her older sister from across the table, rolling her eyes as Sansa had a moment ago. Sansa saw her from the corner of her eye and shot her a sharp look.

Gwynne had noticed the looks and teasing going on between the sisters and was going to remind them that there wasn't supposed to be fighting tonight. But she felt eyes on her and couldn't shake the feeling.

She looked towards the end of the table and felt her entire body freeze up. Jon's deep blue eyes were staring right at her, so fiercely she swore he could see into her soul. She smiled at him nervously; she had never seen him look at her like that before. She wondered briefly what he was thinking as she grabbed a hold of her cup and raised it towards him.

Jon chuckled under his breath and did the same, both of them taking a drink from their cups at the same time. He watched her in silence, the laughter and noise surrounding him slowly fading away.

Had she always been this breathtaking? Her dark hair hung over her bare shoulders, the natural waves flowing like an endless river over her pale skin. The dress Sansa had made for her only accentuated her beauty tonight. It hugged her body tightly, the curves of her figure out in the open for everyone in Winterfell to see. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Jon had been starring at her trying to gather the courage to ask for a dance. His mind was screaming at him to put his cup of wine down, walk over to her, and take her to the floor. His heart was reminding him of how good her lips had felt against his a few days ago and how amazing it would be if he would be lucky enough to experience that once again. But for the life of him, his body wouldn't move from his spot.

The truth was, he was absolutely terrified of what Lady Stark would do if she saw him dancing with Gwynne. She would kill him, without a doubt, if he even laid a hand on her. Dancing with her in front of Cat would cause him nothing but grief.

He glanced up towards the table a few feet away from him and saw Cat staring right at him. He swallowed back the lump that had swelled in his throat and quickly looked away, taking another gulp of wine to try and calm his frantic body.

"My Lady, I was wondering if I could be so honoured as to have this next dance with you."

Gwynne looked up when she heard the steady voice over the commotion of the dinning hall. A grin grew on Sansa's face as she watched Gwynne take her older brother's hand, silently accepting the invitation to share a dance together.

Sansa, Arya and Jon all watched in silence as Robb led Gwynne to where other couples were dancing. Sansa sighed heavily, turning back to her brothers and sister.

"Isn't it just so romantic?" Sansa gushed, much to Jon's dismay. "I think they're just perfect for each other. I wonder if father will let Robb marry Gwynne even though she's not of noble blood."

"Why would they marry? That's stupid." Arya pointed out. She loved Gwynne more than anything, but she had always thought of the older woman as her sister, one that she could tolerate a lot more than the sister that was flesh and blood. Didn't Robb? Wouldn't it be weird to wed someone whom you thought of as your sister all your life?

"I just think it's the perfect story. They've grown up together, their friendship seems so strong. And they would have beautiful children, don't you think?" Sansa asked, speaking to no one in particular.

Jon felt his stomach turn at the thought, the grip on his cup tightening the more he listened to his half-sister speak. His body remained still, every muscle tense as Sansa's words swam over and over in his head. His eyes moved to where his brother and Gwynne were dancing and suddenly he felt as though he was about to throw up.

Arya watched him curiously from the other end of the table, following his eyes to where they were focused. She looked back to Jon and saw the sadness in his eyes. She blinked several times, piecing it all together. She might have been a young child, but she was no idiot.

"I can't believe no one has asked for a dance with you yet. I'm lucky to be the first." Robb held Gwynne close to him, his arm wrapped around her waist and resting against the small of her back. His other hand held hers tightly as he stared into her eyes.

Gwynne couldn't help the blush that spread across her cheeks. She forced herself to look away from him. Those blue eyes of his were always dangerous, especially this close. She knew he saw the blush on her cheeks when he laughed under his breath, and cursed all the candles in the room that made it all the more easier for him to see it.

"You flatter me with your kind words, Lord Stark."

"Oh, please, not this again, Gwynne."

Gwynne and Robb burst out in laughter together as they continued to dance. Once the laughter died down Gwynne found it very hard to concentrate on the simple swaying from side to side. She couldn't help but stare at the man in front of her, despite how she tried to stop herself.

She couldn't get over the way his blue eyes always seemed to pierce right through him. The curls of his auburn hair looked crisp in the candle lit hall, moving ever so slightly as they swayed from side to side.

His hand moved against her back, edging closer to her hips as he slowly brought her closer against him. She could feel his broad chest beneath the fabric of his shirt and Gwynne found herself holding her breath. She felt her body heat up as his thumb gently circled a spot of her back.

She didn't understand this. Why was her body reacting the same way to Robb as it had with Jon only a few days ago? The way Robb was looking at her made her heart nearly leap up into her throat. Maybe it was all the wine she had throughout the night that was making her feel like this.

"Look how happy they are, Ned." Cat whispered to her Lord husband with a smile, pointing to where her son and Gwynne were sharing a dance together.

"Aye. They do seem to enjoy one another's company." Ned watched his son hold Gwynne close to him and couldn't help but smile proudly. "Have you been giving it some thought, Cat?"

She paused for a moment, watching her son carefully. He did seem happy. He always did when he was around the girl they had taken in as one of their own. Even though she wanted her eldest son to be married to someone of noble birth she couldn't help but see the positive of Robb and Gwynne being together.

She had pondered her husband's words for many years and it seemed that the more Gwynne matured into a woman, the more convinced Cat was that she would be a wonderful wife to Robb. She had grown into an extraordinary beauty, her dark eyes and dark hair made her look more like a Stark than anything else. Cat couldn't help but think of how perfectly Gwynne would fit into the Stark family if she were to marry Robb. She had already considered Gwynne to be one of her own children. The love she bore for the orphan girl was hard to ignore.

"I think they would be wonderful together. Think of all the beautiful children she would give him." Cat stared off into the distance wistfully, picturing Robb turning to face his mother with a newborn babe cradled in his strong arms.

She had been so caught up with her thoughts that she hadn't seen Jon get up from the table and make it way towards his brother and Gwynne. Cat watched in horror as Jon interrupted the couple and the bastard stepped in to dance with Gwynne.

"I suppose it's improper of me to keep such a beauty to myself all night. She's all yours, brother." Robb told Jon, patting him on the back as he backed off.

Gwynne felt the same flutter in her stomach when Jon pulled her close, his hand resting on the same spot of her back as his brother's was only a moment before. But there was something different when she danced with Jon. She wanted to stand on her toes and kiss him, right then and there. She didn't care who saw, she didn't care what people said behind her back, she just wanted to feel Jon's lips against hers once again.

"I don't think Robb's very happy that I interrupted your dance. I think he truly was hoping to you all to himself tonight." Jon teased, leaning forward and whispering into Gwynne's ear.

She shut her eyes for a brief moment and felt a shiver run down her spine from his warm breath. Since when did he have such an effect on her?

"Robb wanted no such thing. He was just being polite by asking me for a dance, Jon."

Jon chuckled against Gwynne's ear, his laughter sending tingles throughout her body. She felt them like a powerful tide spreading from her head to her toes. She leaned forward and rested her head against Jon's shoulder, a sigh of content slipping through her lips.

The more she thought of her relationship with the two brothers the more Gwynne found herself confused. She loved them as though they were her own blood. They were all raised together since they were old enough to walk. You would never see one without the other.

But as they got older, Gwynne found herself staring at the brothers longer than she normally would. She was head over heels for Robb when they were children, for reasons that seemed childish now that she looked back on it. But as he matured, as his arms began to grow and his chest began to swell with muscles, Gwynne found her attraction towards him become less innocent than they had been years ago.

It was around that same time that Gwynne had first noticed her feelings towards Jon had begun to change as well. He had grown into a true man. He carried his burden of being Ned Stark's bastard on his back. And though the weight sometimes threatened to swallow him whole, he had never let the shame overcome him. The hurtful words that were said of him and the hateful looks Lady Stark gave him had only made him a stronger man, even though sometimes Gwynne had to remind him of that. His dark curly hair, his light blue eyes, he looked more of a Stark than Ned's trueborn children.

"Everyone's watching us." Jon blurted out.

Gwynne kept her head against his shoulder but opened her eyes to see for herself. She bit her bottom lip when she noticed that practically everyone had stopped what they were doing and was now watching them intently. Some people tried to hide their stares, glancing back and forth between the pair and another spot in the hall. Others made their staring a lot more obvious.

"Are you ashamed to be dancing with me, Jon?" She tried to sound offended but knew she was doing a terrible job at it.

"Never." _I just wish I could kiss you._ Jon didn't dare let the words leave his lips. If he kissed her in front of everyone all hell would break loose. Gwynne would be accused of sleeping with the bastard and would be dishonoured almost instantly. No man would want anything to do with her. And Jon's father would no doubt be furious over it all.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to just enjoy their time together. He didn't know how much longer they would have.

"You let him just cut in like that? What's wrong, Robb, are you going soft on me?" Theon mocked, slapping his friend across his chest as he took a seat beside his father's ward.

Robb watched his brother continue to dance with Gwynne as he cross his arms over his broad chest. It was hard not to notice how close they were dancing. "It's harmless."

Theon scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Look at how he's holding her. He looks like he's never going to let her go. You're going to let your brother touch your girl like that?"

This time Robb turned his body to face his father's ward. "I trust my brother."

"Perhaps you shouldn't trust him so much, Robb. He is a bastard, after all. They have no honour, only shame."

_She had come to him in the middle of the night. He saw the look deep in her dark eyes and recognized the lust immediately. No other woman had ever looked at him with such intensity in lurking in her eyes. He felt a shiver run through his body as she approached his bed, her hands reaching up to the straps in the front of her dress._

_ He watched her as she slowly unlaced them, as if to tease and entice him. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Gwynne had unlaced the final strap that had held the fabric together. She slid it down her shoulders, her breasts slowly exposing themselves to him as she stood at the foot of his bed. She wiggled out of the fabric of the dress, letting it pool around her feet._

_ She stepped out of it effortlessly, making her way onto the bed and crawling towards him at a pace that had him going crazy._

_ When she was finally hovering over him, Gwynne leaned down, her lips gently brushing against his, teasing him to within an inch of his sanity. Finally, he reached up and grabbed a steady hold of her waist, pulling her down so her body was pressed against his. He could feel the warmth and softness of her breast as they caressed his chest, his lips claiming hers as his own._

_ She moaned into his mouth, grinding her hips against his as her fingers tangled themselves in his hair. She twirled her fingertips around the curls of his soft strands, her tongue exploring his mouth as his did the same in return._

_ He knew she could feel his erection pressing against her core. He could feel the moisture that gathered there for him, as if begging him to enter her and claim her as his own. His fingertips dug into her flesh, causing her to cry out into his mouth. He swallowed her cry of pleasure, demanding more from her mouth._

_ Finally, she pulled away, resting her forehead against his. "I want to feel you inside of me." She whispered._

_ He hesitated, if only for a moment. He wanted this more than anything else in the world, but he had to know that she would be forever his if he gave her what she asked for. He wouldn't be able to live out the rest of his days if he knew that she would end up giving herself to another man._

_ "Only if you promise you'll be mine until the very end."_

_ She nodded, smiling. "I promise, my Lord."_

_ He grabbed a hold of himself and angled himself so he could finally enter her. He had dreamt about this for as long as he could remember. All he had ever wanted was to feel her wrapped tightly around him, to feel her warmth and wetness until it swallowed him whole._

_ He found her warm, inviting lips, the moisture between her legs coating him to make the new experience for her all the more bearable. He would never be able to live with himself if he had caused her any pain._

_ He readied himself, to feel the warmth of a woman wrapped around him for the first time. He took a deep breath in to steady himself, and pushed his hips forward._

Robb jumped up in his bed, covered in a thick sweat and panting for air. The back of his hand came to his forehead to wipe away the perspiration that had gathered there. He glanced around his bedchambers and realized that he was alone.

"Gods…what's wrong with me?"


	5. Up All Night

Robb woke up the next morning covered in a cold sweat. He brought his hand to his brow to wipe it away, gasping for air. He blue eyes looked around the room, sighing with relief when he saw that it was empty. Gwynne wasn't lying in his bed beside him, naked like she had been in his dream. He felt an aching in his groin and groaned, turning over and burying his face in his pillow.

What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to look at her after he had tasted her, felt her skin against his, and moved inside of her? _Very easily, because it never happened. It was a dream._ He tried to repeat that to himself, over and over again as he dressed, but it was hopeless. His mind refused to let him forget how she had felt against him, how she had made him feel when he was deep inside of her. It had all seemed so real he had woken up convinced that she really had come to him that night.

_Yes, because she would come to you and beg you to take her_, his mind scoffed.

When he saw her in the yard, standing beside his half brother, the dream came back and struck him harder than it had before. Flashes of her skin glistening in the moonlight swam through his mind, her swollen lips as she moaned his name over and over again while he claimed her. And when she saw him and smiled, that smile that haunted him when he closed his eyes at night, he knew that it was no use.

"Gwynne, Jon." Robb greeted as he came to a stop beside them.

"Good morning, my Lord." Her voice was as soft as he remembered her skin to be. It made him shudder and he quickly prayed to the Gods that neither one of them had noticed. "You slept in rather late this morning."

Jon watched his brother carefully, noticing a look on his features he had yet to see. He said nothing of it as he kept his eyes focused on his half brother. "Arya has challenged Theon to a competition, brother."

Robb pushed the feeling away and moved his eyes to where Jon and Gwynne had been watching. "What kind of competition?"

"Bow and arrow, of course." Gwynne laughed, turning back around.

Robb's eyes found Gwynne's face as he watched her while she looked elsewhere. He swallowed the lump that had swelled in his throat and turned his attention back to his youngest sister. "And mother and father have agreed to it?"

Jon chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "They don't know. Father said he had some matters that had to be attended to and that he wouldn't be free until later on today. I've never seen Arya so excited about anything in my life."

"And who's winning so far?"

"I believe Theon is," Gwynne answered. "But don't worry, Arya's a little dragon. She's just letting him think he's going to win."

Theon took his stance, lifting another arrow in his hand and bringing it into his bow. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his friends standing there, though his eyes went straight to Gwynne. He shot her a crooked smile and a wink before turning his focus back to the target and taking aim.

The half brothers glanced over at Gwynne curiously before turning their attention back to their father's ward and their younger sister. Neither of them said a word about Theon's action, but both watched him cautiously.

Gwynne shook her head, clearing her throat when she saw Theon wink at her. Maybe in another life that simple action would have caused her heart to flutter in her chest and would have left her short of breath. But she knew Theon a lot better than that. Theon was no stranger to the fairer sex, and would have no doubt made advances on Sansa herself had he known Lord Stark wouldn't have cut him down. There was no flattery in any attention given by Theon Greyjoy. There were times when Gwynne wondered if Theon would have come on to his own sister, had he the opportunity.

Arya thumped her foot into the dry soil impatiently as Theon took aim and readied himself. She let out an agitated groan and rolled her eyes, impatient as ever. "Just shoot it, already! I've got things to do today, you know."

Theon chuckled to himself and let the arrow fly, nailing it directly in the centre of the target. Arya mumbled under her breath as she prepared her own bow, her nerves suddenly getting the best of her when she realized Jon and Robb were both standing there, watching.

"You can do it, Arya!" Gwynne called, her voice ringing out into the training yard.

With the extra support from Gwynne, Arya let go of the arrow and watched excitedly as it struck the centre of her target. She jumped up and down, cheering as excitement took over her. She looked up at Theon and stuck out her tongue, more confident than ever.

"She's amazing with a bow," Gwynne pointed out. "It makes me wonder if we're just wasting everybody's time when she's in sewing class."

"I can't tell you how disappointed she is that she was born a girl. Sometimes I wonder if she's going to chop off all her hair one day and try and convince everyone that she were a boy just so she could practice with us." Robb laughed. He had no doubt the thought had crossed his little sister's mind, at least once.

Theon let out an angry groan when his arrow missed his target. Arya let out a victorious cry before reloading her bow and letting the arrow fly across the yard. Theon kicked the dirt by his feet as he watched her nail another target.

Gwynne shook her head as she watched, well aware of what Theon was doing.

"Oh, Gods, he's purposely losing." Jon groaned.

Robb laughed under his breath. "Arya's not going to be pleased when she finds out."

Gwynne looked between both brothers. "Well, I'm certainly not going to tell her. Are either of you?"

It wasn't before long that the competition between little Arya Stark and her father's ward was finished. She jumped around, cheering her own name as she called herself the victor. She tilted her head back to look up at Theon and crinkled her nose at him.

"I thought you were better than that, Theon." She teased. "Next time, I shall go easier on you."

Theon rubbed the top of Arya's head, purposely messing up her hair the way he knew she hated. "I'll hold you to that, you little devil. Go on, now. Get to your lessons." Theon smiled to himself as he watched her scurry off, disappearing into the crowd of people. He began to clean up the yard as his friends approached him.

"I think that was sweet." Gwynne told him, smiling.

Robb laughed dryly, "It won't be once she finds out you let her win."

Theon shrugged. "Who said I let her win? I think I'm just having an off day, today. No matter, I can still beat the both of you."

Jon and Robb began protesting Theon's words when Gwynne chuckled and excused herself. "I think I'll see if Sansa or Arya need help with anything today."

"Wait!" Jon called out, causing Gwynne to stop and turn around to face him. "We were going to go for a ride today; would you like to join us?"

She smiled warmly, touched that Jon had thought to invite her along. "Of course, I would love to."

The horses were saddled and ready and before long the four of them were riding outside of the walls of Winterfell. Gwynne couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips as she rode with her friends, enjoying every moment in silence.

There were times when she wondered how much longer their lives would remain like this. How long would neither of them have a care in the world? She had no doubt that Robb was to be married soon, after all he was of age and it was hard to ignore all the lustful stares he received from the women he passed. Would Jon end up leaving for the Wall soon? He had always spoken of it as a child, 'when I grow up I'm going to be a first ranger of the Night's Watch, just like uncle Benjen!' Nothing had excited him more.

But for some reason, something told Gwynne that Theon would never change. She couldn't picture him settling down and taking a wife, not for the life of her. Theon enjoyed the company of women far too much for that. Maybe he would go back home at some point, and be reunited with his own people and his family that he had been forced to leave behind.

But what of her? Gwynne had no family to go to, and her kingdom was Winterfell. She had suitors but she had begged Lord Stark not to marry her off just yet. She wasn't ready and there were times when she feared she never would be. The thought of being married to a man she didn't know, a man who would take her innocence without a second thought, was almost too much to think of.

She had heard stories from some of the women in Winterfell and how their fathers had married them off to get rid of them or to acquire something they didn't already have. She had also heard stories of their wedding nights and how they had been savaged and taken without a single thought of their wellbeing and enjoyment.

"Gwynne, are you alright?" Robb's voice quickly brought her back to reality. "You haven't said a word throughout the entire trip."

She shot him a smile and nodded quickly. She hadn't realized she was so out of it until he had spoken to her. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm fine."

"So anyways, Ros was bouncing up and down so hard; I swear I thought her tits were going to fall off!"

"Oh Gods, Theon!" Jon groaned.

"There's a lady with us." Robb told him sternly.

Theon only laughed. "What? It's not like Gwynne hasn't heard stories like these before."

Gwynne shrugged. "I'm afraid Theon's right. I've heard so many stories about Ros, I feel like I know her personally."

Robb knew she was right, seven hells, they had all heard so many stories about Ros that they had all felt as though she were a part of their lives. Robb had never had the pleasure of meeting Ros, but from Theon's vivid descriptions he could picture every inch of her body just fine.

"Regardless, Theon, you should watch what you say around a lady." Robb told him.

Theon merely shrugged it off and continued to trot his horse forward. They had gotten so far from Winterfell that Gwynne was having a hard time recognizing the land. She squinted in the sunlight as it blurred her vision but kept moving forward, keeping her horse up with the others.

"I bet my horse can outrun all of yours." Theon said, changing the subject.

Jon rolled his eyes in silence and Robb let out a scoff. Theon was always the one to try and prove himself to others, even when he was around friends. He was Lord Stark's ward, a hostage, some would say, but he would always try and prove himself otherwise, even when there was no need to. Any chance that he got to prove his manhood, he took it. Which was probably why he was always so adamant on sharing his sexual conquests with Robb and Jon. He knew neither of them had been with a woman and he wanted to rub it in their faces any chance he got.

"I'm sure Snow could outrun your horse if she wanted to."

The three men looked at Gwynne, confused.

"Snow?" Robb questioned.

"The horse you and Jon showed me in the woods. I named her Snow."

Jon felt something inside his chest. _Snow. She named her Snow. _He tried to tell himself it was nothing, that she had just named the horse after the colour of her mane, but something told him otherwise. _Did she name her after me?_

"Well maybe if you ever train that horse we'll see. But right now, I think you're all just too scared to see whose horse is the fastest."

"Alright, Theon, you want to have a race? We'll all race, then."

The four of them brought their horses to a stop, lining them up side by side. Their horses moved uneasy and anxiously, waiting for the command to rush forward, almost eager for it.

"Ready?" Robb asked.

"In three…two…one!" Theon yelled.

The four of them kicked their horses, sending them galloping across the land. Gwynne couldn't help but laugh loudly as the cool air blew past her, sending strands of her dark hair over her shoulders. She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the moment. She tried to tell herself that this would never end, that they would always be carefree and more concerned of having fun than worrying about death and war. But something deep inside of her told her differently.

_Everything changes. And winter is coming._

Robb, Jon and Theon's horses had managed to get ahead of hers. She tried to kick hers forward, but for some reason her horse was slowing down. She watched as her friends disappeared over the horizon and before long she couldn't hear her friend's laughter anymore.

Gwynne brought her horse to a steady stop, looking around curiously. She heard something, in the bushes. She swore she had heard something.

Cautiously, Gwynne dismounted her horse, taking the reigns in her hand as she walked towards the bushes. She called out but no one answered. She edged closer, peering into the bushes to try and see whatever it was that was making that noise, but she couldn't see anything.

All of a sudden her horse jumped onto his hind legs, throwing his front legs up and neighing as if something had spooked him. Gwynne turned and tried to keep a steady hold on him, but he was too strong and he soon broke free from her grip.

She called out to him, trying to calm him, but he took off, disappearing beyond the wilderness before she could stop him.

Gwynne stood there, terrified and confused as she realized she had been abandoned. Abandoned by her friends and abandoned by her horse.

She heard something moving in the bushes again and spun around, coming face to face with the creature that scared her horse away.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"


	6. Die Young

** You guys have been so amazing that I had to update already! I know I say this every time I update, but seriously, you guys have made me so happy with all of the wonderful feedback you've given me. I hope to get a lot more as the story goes on, and I hope that you enjoy this next chapter!**

Gwynne stumbled back away from the wildling as she stood before her, grinning. The wildling eyed the young girl up and down, her tongue darting out to moisturize her chapped lip as she cocked an eyebrow in Gwynne's direction.

Gwynne watched the wildling girl carefully, fearing she was a threat but not convinced that the girl would do anything to harm her. Not until she reached out and grabbed a steady hold of Gwynne's arm, puncturing her flesh almost immediately as her dirty fingernails dug into her skin. It was then that Gwynne understood that whether man or woman, wildlings were all the same.

The wildling eyed her up and down, taking note of the extravagant gown and the way her hair looked to have been recently washed and brushed, unlike anything she had ever seen before. "You're no commoner. Who are you?" She growled.

Gwynne found herself at a loss for words. Who _was _she? She was a guest of the

Stark house, a Northerner who called Winterfell home, as countless others had. It was then that she realized for the first time that she was nothing but a commoner, despite the fact that she dwelled within the walls of Winterfell's castle along with the Stark children. Her father might have been a trusted and loved member of Lord Stark's guard, but _she _was nothing.

"Answer me, girl!" The wildling shouted, tightening her grip on Gwynne's wrist and tugging her an inch forward.

"I am Lady Arsenault from Belmont, Lord Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell's, betrothed. You'd do best to release me this instant before you lose your hand." The lie burned at Gwynne's lips and she could only hope it had sounded more convincing than she had intended it.

Hesitation lurked within the wildling's eyes as she heard the woman's powerful voice. While Gwynne had hoped her words would have forced the woman to free her from her grip, but to her dismay she found the woman only held on to her tighter.

"A lady? Soon to be Robb Stark's wife?" The woman let out a sickening laugh that instantly turned Gwynne's stomach into knots. "You'll be of value to us."

Gwynne's eyes shot over the woman's shoulder as she cried out, "Theon, no, don't kill her!"

The woman instantly spun around, letting go of Gwynne's wrist to identify the threat. Her eyes darted around the heavy trees, searching for the man Gwynne had called out to but seeing no one. The wildling turned back around and came face to face with Gwynne, wielding a rock in her grasp.

Without a moment of hesitation, Gwynne slammed the rock into the woman's temple, knocking her over with the dangerous blow. When the woman fell and Gwynne pulled her arm back to her she felt a moist, sticky substance had soaked her hand. Glancing down, she realized it was blood, too much blood, and she instantly dropped the rock to her feet.

She took a step back, her lip quivering as the woman lay unmoving by her feet. _Dear Gods. I killed someone. _Gwynne's breathing became heavy as her eyes refused to remove themselves from the woman's body. She felt her legs shake beneath her, threatening to give out and throw her to the floor to join the wildling that now lay in a pool of her own blood.

"I'm sorry." She muttered in a near whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Now, there ain't anything to be sorry about, little girl." A voice boomed from behind her.

Gwynne tried to turn around to see who it was, but they had already grabbed a tight hold of her waist, pulling her up against his body. She felt the cold metal of a dagger press against the skin of her throat and couldn't fight the sob that slipped through her lips. She pulled at his hand to free herself from the blade against her throat but couldn't budge it away from her.

"Don't worry, sweetling, you're of much more use to me alive than you are dead." He assured her, edging the blade closer against her skin, nicking her in the process.

She had to figure a way out of this. She couldn't depend on Robb, Jon and Theon coming to her rescue. She did years ago, and they had not failed her, but soon they would be gone, each to his separate way and they would no doubt leave her behind. She couldn't depend on them forever, not if she wanted to live long enough to gaze upon the innocent faces of her grandchildren.

"What do you want?" Gwynne asked, suddenly painfully aware that every word spoken could be her last.

The man pulled her tighter against his body, making his desire very clear to her.

_Just do it. Do it so you'll be free and then run._

Gwynne swallowed back the bile that had surfaced in her mouth and rubbed herself against the man, drawing a low groan from his throat. She felt his grip on her loosen and her mind screamed at her. Now_!_

Somehow, Gwynne had managed to pull back one of his fingers, snapping the bone and sending the sound soaring into the midday sky. He stepped away from her, crying out in pain, and the next thing she knew was that the dagger was now clutched tightly in her hand. She spun around, wasting no time, and pressed the tip of the blade against the wildling's belly.

"Kill him, Gwynne." A familiar voice rang out from behind her.

She didn't dare take her eyes off the wildling as he stood before her, clutching his broken finger like a child. She knew who was standing behind her, his voice a very much welcomed sound.

Theon stood beside Robb and Jon, his bow armed and aimed at the man's forehead, should he try anything rash. Knowing her friends were behind her gave her the assurance she needed to step away from the man, his dagger still in her hand. She heard Theon groan in disappointment as the man stumbled backwards, aware that this was a battle he would not win. He turned and started running, hoping the men would let him be and let him escape with nothing but a broken finger.

Gwynne watched but said nothing as Theon's arrow flew by her, nailing the wildling in the back of the head and dropping him instantly.

Theon stepped forward to retrieve his arrow, his hand momentarily rubbing Gwynne's arm in reassurance as he passed. It wasn't another second before Gwynne found herself standing between Jon Snow and Robb Stark.

"Are you okay?" Jon asked, his eyes catching the moisture in Gwynne's. He had watched her cry, too many times then he would have liked to admit, and knew the look on her face instantly.

She nodded in response, watching Theon pluck his arrow from the back of the man's head, a splatter of blood following soon after.

Robb let out a sigh, sliding his sword back into its sheath. "You sure have a way of finding yourself in dangerous situations, don't you, Gwynne?"

Without responding, Gwynne glanced over her shoulder, her eyes falling to the body of the woman.

"Is she dead?" She was afraid to hear the answer but felt the need to ask it. She had to know. Had she taken someone's life today?

Jon said nothing as he moved over to the wildling woman, crouching over her to check for a pulse. It was then Robb who spoke up.

"If she isn't now, father will no doubt see that she is."

Jon shook his head, answering Gwynne's question as he stood up over the corpse, watching Gwynne with sad, heavy eyes.

Robb put a hand on her shoulder, comforting her almost instantly. "If you didn't kill her, she would have killed you. Wildlings have no sense of what's right and what's wrong. If you didn't do what you did it would be you lying on the ground in a pool of blood."

By now, Theon had joined them, standing behind Gwynne silently as he listened to his friend. His eyes never left the wildling's body, almost impressed that Gwynne had managed to defend herself and slay the one who had meant her harm. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his lips at the thought.

"Please don't speak of this to anyone. Lord Stark will never let me leave my room again." It was true. Lord Stark had beaten himself up for so long when she had almost been raped and murdered. His last words to her father had been that he would protect his guard's only child, and he had never been able to forgive himself for allowing the beating to happen to her. If he heard of this Gwynne had no doubt he would lock her in her bedchamber and forbid her to leave until she married someone who could protect her until his final breath.

Theon said nothing but nodded, agreeing that this would stay between the four of them. Robb and Jon spoke, almost in unison, and agreed to never speak of this again. This was a secret the four of them would keep between themselves, along with the hundreds of others they had shared over the years spent together.

"And what of the marks on your wrist and neck?" Jon asked.

Gwynne glanced down at her wrist, pulling up the sleeve to reveal the cuts the woman's nails had left in her flesh. "Sansa loves to make dresses with long sleeves. I will let her make them long until the wounds heal. And until then, I have more than enough to cover the wounds." Her hand came up and touched the spot where the blade had cut her neck. Her shaky hand reached out in front of her, the blood of the wildling woman and her own now mixed together on her fingers. "My horse threw me, startled by a noise in the bushes. I fell and cut myself."

The men nodded silently in agreement. If Lord and Lady Stark had ever learned of the truth it would do nothing but convince them even more to marry her and send her away. The threats were dead, no one knew but them, and this was for the best.

"We should go back. They'll be wondering where we are." Robb spoke up.

It wasn't until Gwynne had walked with the others to their horses that she realized she was suddenly without one. She looked at Jon, unsure of what to say.

"Ride with me," he told her, his voice low.

She smiled slightly as he stood beside his horse, the reign held tightly in his gloved hand. It was then that she remembered countless times when they had been children, riding with Jon on his horse through the land of Winterfell. How they would laugh and promise one another that no matter how old they got, things would never change.

Theon eyed Jon silently as he watched the bastard pull himself onto his horse's back, Gwynne settled nicely in the saddle in front of him. His eyes shot to Robb's shortly after, who was already in the saddle of his horse. Theon cocked his eyebrows at Robb, who shook his head and quickly turned away from them all.

No words had been spoken between the four of them throughout the ride back to Winterfell, and Gwynne couldn't have been more grateful. She didn't want to speak about the fact that she had just taken a life, and all a conversation would have done was reminder her of it.

It wasn't that long after they had arrived back in Winterfell that supper had been served. She had excused herself and retired back to her room, too upset to even stomach the smell of food. Arya had objected over Gwynne's departure, to no surprise of the Stark guest. She had said a quick goodnight to Ned's youngest daughter, giving her a soft kiss against her cheek, as she left the hall and made her way back to her bedchamber.

Gwynne had been sitting at the foot of her bed, her fingertips gently stroking the cuts across her wrist when she heard a sudden knock at her door. She called out to the person, biding them entrance though all she had wanted was to be alone. This was the Stark's home and she had no right to deny one of them entrance into her bedchamber. Not after all they had done for her.

She was surprised to see that it was Jon who entered, shutting the door behind him with his foot. In his hands he carried a tray which held the supper he had with his family only a shortly before. He sat it down silently on the table beside Gwynne's bed, his feet planted into the ground beside it as he watched her.

"I thought you might be hungry." He told her simply.

She couldn't fight against the smile that burned at her lips as she looked up at him. _After all the heartache you've suffered, how can you still be so sweet, Jon Snow? _"Thank you."

He took a step forward and stopped, realizing how inappropriate it was that he had come to her in her room. "Are you okay?"

Gwynne nodded, her eyes falling to her wrist. "I'm fine, Jon."

"I know you well enough to know that you're not. You may be able to fool father and the rest, but you can't fool me."

Gwynne laughed breathlessly and pushed herself off the edge of her bed. She crossed the room and stood by her window, pushing the glass so it opened and let the breeze that circled Winterfell into her bedchamber. Her hands rested at the bottom of the window and she took a deep breath in, as if to steady the nerves that pulsed through her.

"I killed someone today, Jon." She glanced over her shoulder for a brief moment before turning her gaze back towards the window. "I took the life of an innocent and no amount of praying will have the Gods forgive me."

Irritated, Jon stepped closer, stopping only a few inches behind her. "The life you took wasn't the life of an innocent. She was a wildling, and Robb was right, she would have taken yours if you had hesitated for a moment more."

Gwynne felt the heaviness of her heart and could do more than shake her head. "I'm no different from the men who slew my father." She told him simply.

Jon felt his fists clench by his side. She was nothing like those men. They had attacked his father with the intent of killing him, for reasons even he was too young to fully understand. They had every intention of killing Lord Stark and claiming Winterfell as their own, pillaging and raping as they saw fit. Gwynne had taken a life to save her own, a life that had never deserved to be threatened in the first place.

"It's foolish because I know she would have killed me. I _know _she would have. She would have killed me and then killed you, Robb and Theon. And she would have never regretted doing so. Which only confuses me more. Why would I be so upset over killing someone who would have murdered my friends without a second thought?"

Jon didn't know what to say. He couldn't understand it himself. He had never killed a man, but if the life of someone he loved was on the line, he knew he wouldn't have doubted himself for a moment. If a man had raised a sword at one of his brothers or sisters, or even Gwynne, they deserved nothing more than to die at his hands.

"For years I had promised my father that the one and only man I would kill was the one who took his life." Gwynne tilted her head up towards the sky, as if to ask for forgiveness. Whether it was from her father or the Gods, Jon couldn't tell. "I've watched you and Robb spar, for hours and hours, trying to figure out how to wield a sword and how to defend yourself against one. And I had always hoped that one day, one day when I came face to face with the man who took my father from me, that it would prove itself useful."

"It did," Jon assured her. "You protected yourself."

"I broke my promise to my father." Gwynne corrected.

Jon didn't know what else to say. He knew that no matter what he told her she wouldn't listen. She was as stubborn as Arya and once she had her mind set on something there was no tearing her away from it.

_Be a man, Jon. For once in your life, be a man and claim what should be rightfully yours. _

Jon listened to the voice in the back of his mind and closed the distance between himself and Gwynne. He pressed his chest against her back, stopping only when her curves fit perfectly against him. He didn't feel her tense against her touch; he felt her move into him as if to welcome the warm touch of the living.

His right hand moved from the windowsill, trailing his bare fingertips up her wrist, edging up towards her shoulder. His fingertips messaged her neck, his other hand doing the same on the other side of her. His left hand cupped her cheek in his palm, turning her face so it was closer to his.

She let out a shaky breath against his skin as he closed the space between them, his lips finally finding hers after all the time they had spent apart. Neither of them hesitated as they opened their mouths, their tongues intertwining.

Jon knew that this was wrong. He felt like he was almost taking advantage of her, using her pain to benefit himself. But he deep down he knew that this was much more than that. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since their last kiss. He had dreamt about her every time he closed his eyes and every time he laid his head down at night. He had remembered everything about her. The way she tasted, the way she felt against him, the way she had moaned into his mouth. It was enough to drive any man insane. And that was all it had seemed to do.

Gwynne tore herself away from the window to face Jon, her hands finding a place to rest on either shoulder. She continued to kiss him until she felt as though she were so faint she would lose herself. She felt him press himself against her, the warmth of his groin radiating through both of their clothes but she never once feeling anything but want.

Jon's fingers tightened against her, his hand moving upward into her hair as he grabbed a tight hold of her, almost afraid that if he let her go he would lose her forever. He tried to control himself, tried to calm the erection that was swelling in his pants, but it was no use. His want and need for her was too much even for him to control.

But despite it all, no matter how hard she kissed him back and no matter how much she moaned his name, all Jon could think about was how she had told the wildling woman that she was betrothed to his brother.


End file.
